


EXM: Terra Nova

by Zumberge



Series: Enabler [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: (technically a PMC but there's no tag for that), Artificial Intelligence, Blow Jobs, Breast Expansion, Creampie, F/F, F/M, Girl Penis, Heart-to-Heart, Immobility, Inflation, Mecha, Mental Health Issues, Mercenaries, Monster Boys, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Weight Gain, blueberry expansion, shortstacks, ssbbw, straight to bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2020-10-14 00:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20591342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge
Summary: A brave yet rash decision in the heat of an emergency leads to Angela Daihono finding herself in the employ of Kendall & Jhun, a private military company tasked with defending her home city.  It's quite the burden to bear, but she's surrounded by several attractive men and women and got a giant robot out of the deal, so you know.  Give and take.(Set in the Enabler: Ex Machina universe, a mashup of magic, sci-fi, and whatever kinks the author feels like using on a given basis.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has a bizarrely long history behind it.
> 
> Back in 2008 or possibly earlier I was talking to the crew I used to hang out with on IRC about how my ideal game would be a third-person shooter with massive amounts of gun customization combined with a dating sim with monstergirls. Which was, y'know, ha ha funny joke, but then Mass Effect 2 came out and it was like, "hey guys, remember that idea I had?" Worth noting was that I joked that I'd write it if I didn't have any ethical constraints, so considering what I did in the interim I guess the past decade has been nothing but me popping off my limiters.
> 
> So in 2010 I kind of hashed out the general idea behind the world: In 1968 the major leylines of the world erupted, tearing deep, clean, straight chasms into the earth and causing a massive global cataclysm. The intersection points of the leylines - termed "vertices" - became gateways to another dimension. Monsters emerged from them, and occasionally less monstrous humanoids coming through as refugees. The story proper was going to take place in the year 2000, and... nothing really manifested.
> 
> In 2013 I decided to revisit the concept. Same world, but the vertices closed up around 2010, leaving everything to settle and letting people interbreed a little. It took place in 2410, several years after the vertices opened up again, and the main character was recruited by an organization dedicated exclusively to fighting the now-giant monsters that came out of them with orgone-powered mecha named MAHOU (from the military nomenclature "mech, assault, humanoid, orgone unit").
> 
> I worked on the idea file off and on for the next few years, hashing out the cast while not really ever feeling like writing it proper and waffling on the genders of the protagonist and other characters. Somewhere along the line I got and subsequently dropped the idea of making it a visual novel, instead having the framing device of the story be that it was the *plot* of a VN in progress but the team broke up and the story was an attempt to salvage it. Then I realized that hey, I already had a setting kind of like it, so I ported it over to the EXM universe and here we are.

The digits on the clock radio ticked over and an electric guitar faded in, playing a complex bridge beside a set of drums before the vocalist began singing again, his voice low and clear. In the bed nearby a young woman, barely in her twenties, pushed herself up to a sitting position, blue eyes blinking in the morning light. She ran her fingers through a head of short, messy silver hair before stretching, pulling the sheets aside and swinging her legs over the edge.

"-Midwich has a reunion tour in the works. Yeah, still. Three years running. Lead guitarist Douglas Keyes said yesterday that-"

She leaned back, tugging the black leggings up around her hips before sliding on a short white skirt. As she stood she fastened the button, padding over to her closet before pulling it open. She spent a moment contemplating her choices, eventually giving a light shrug and drawing out a white long-sleeved shirt.

"-traffic is clear along Retansir Avenue so if you're coming in from the highway you've got a straight shot getting to work. Outside it's sunny, 64 degrees, with a daily high-"

As she smoothed the hem of his shirt she glanced over at the radio before taking a blue, short-sleeved hoodie off of its hangar. Heading back to her bedside she shut it off, pausing to pull the hoodie on before scooping up her shoes, exiting her room and going downstairs.

Her mother was already awake, typing away on a keyboard projected onto the table by her tablet. "Morning, Angela," she said, glancing over at her. "You woke up late. Planning on eating breakfast today?"

"I'm going to eat on the way there." Angela pulled out her chair at the kitchen table and took a seat before tying on her shoes. "I wanted to bring in tost-u for the others."

"Well that's nice."

"There's usually a bag of candy and cookies in the back and way too many of them think that and a cup of coffee count as breakfast."

Her mother let out a light laugh as she looked up. "Are you coming straight home after work?"

She shook her head as she stood, pushing the chair back. "I was going to meet up with a few friends."

"Alright, just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Will do. See you later, mom."

*****

With a graceful sweep of his knife he split the tape in half, making two more cuts at the corners of the cardboard flaps. Snapping the blade shut he slid his fingers into the opening, giving them a gentle tug upward to break the remaining strands of adhesive. "So I made another colony in Hegemony Space," he said.

"You did?" Angela made a quick, short incision in the tape with her nail, pressing both hands into the cut before yanking the flaps apart, ripping the tape up in the process. It was rougher, but more direct and just as quick. "How many do you have at this point?"

He thought for a second as he removed an armful of home decor. "Probably like, six." Turning, he placed them on the rolling rack behind them. "But what you can do now is set up trade routes between them."

"So you don't have to keep carrying supplies manually."

"Right. I've just been doing that and having them build up each other, and now raiders are starting to attack." He scooped up the remaining packages with one hand, passing off the box to another employee with the other. "So I hired guards to fight the raiders, but then I found out that they also had drugs and organs on them."

Angela paused, looking over at him. "Oh no."

"Now what I did," he began, trying to suppress a smile, "was had the guards take all the contraband to one colony, and then started running it to whichever outpost had the biggest demand."

"Is the demand fixed or does it change?"

"It's updated in -real time-." He opened another box for emphasis. "It is -insane- how much detail the game has."

"I could never handle a game like that; I'd just want to explore."

"Speaking of," the other employee said, pausing in her steps. "Have you seen the latest episode of Hellebore yet?"

She gave a shake of her head. "I stopped a while back."

"What? Why?"

"The drama is so -forced-. If the characters just stopped and said something to each other things wouldn't have gotten as bad as it has."

"It's about human interaction."

"Nobody is -interacting-. The first two seasons were fine, but now people are keeping secrets from each other for no reason, things in the country are getting worse, and everyone -knows- they're getting worse but they're just letting it happen." She took a few household decorations from the box, more to look busy than anything else. "Sigurd has spies in the Gealhmod army telling him they're preparing to invade but he hasn't told the king, Edmund and Diana still haven't gotten married-"

"I thought they were going to get married last season," the young man beside Angela said.

"It looked like they were," Angela replied, "but now they're back to where they were at the beginning of the last season."

"But you do understand," her co-worker added, "that the whole theme of the story is people being..." She gesticulated. "...destroyed by secrets, right?"

"Yeah. I get that people are afraid to tell others the truth, but it's dumb. Just -tell- them and stop being scared."

"Hearing things you don't want to hear hurts."

"Being afraid hurts, and I'd rather be afraid of something I can do something about. Just tear the bandage off quick instead of dragging it out."

She gave Angela a polite nod and an, "alright," unwilling to pursue the conversation further.

Silence fell across the delivery room for a few minutes before her male co-worker spoke up again. "Also, if you capture the raiders alive-"

Angela shook her head with a smile. "Are you sure you should be talking about this at work?"

*****

The conversation did not continue after work, but others were taken up in its stead when Angela met up with her friends, Gina and Koharu. They convened in the open-air mall, constructed no more than a year ago in a recently-reclaimed section of Kuneywa. It was a cleaner, more modern design, a far cry from the boxier aesthetic of the previous building, now since gone. Many of the stores and businesses from the old one transferred over with it, including one arcade which had particular significance to Angela.

She waved to the man behind the counter as she entered. "I'm just here to check the machine."

The man looked up from his magazine with a mildly annoyed expression. "I haven't touched it, Angela."

"I know," she called back. After the third time he reset the high score table he finally learned better. It was also uploaded to the developers' site, but it was the principle of the thing.

The machine in question was at the back of the arcade, a simplified albeit still accurate reproduction of a GR control system: A curved panel covered in displays and non-functioning switches and dials, with a seat in front of it, two foot pedals underneath, and two joysticks on segmented limbs able to be pulled forward within reach of the player-cum-pilot. She leaned on the side, watching the attract mode play silently before a list of scores, times, and initials scrolled up, all but the bottom-most one belonging to "A-D." Angela recognized the last initials as being the same as the Mutant Empire runner she talked to every so often; he must've taken her tips to heart, though by Angela's admission her runs toward the end of the score list weren't very good.

As Angela met up with her friends outside again, Gina asked, "Have you thought about going into video game development or testing?"

Angela shook her head. "No, I'm not-"

"You'd be good at it," she added. "You know all about playing games."

"No, it's... it's -work-. You just play the same part of the game over and over for hours on end. I talked to someone who did it once and he was so burnt out over how repetitive it was that he quit the company." She paused as she heard a series of muted thumps roll in from the distance. That's odd, she thought; the GR fire sounded closer than normal. "Plus I tried learning how to program and I couldn't figure it out."

"It's not that hard," Koharu said, sipping on her drink.

"You were doing those ten-day game contests when we were in high school!"

"I only started as a sophomore." After a second of thought she said, "maybe you can go into engineering. You're good with your hands."

"Not with math. You tutored me in physics senior year, remember?"

"You passed."

"With a C." She shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Construction, maybe."

"There's still time to think about it," Koharu offered.

"I've -had- time to think about it, but it hasn't helped." Another series of thumps drew her attention, closer this time, and she turned. "Are they doing live-fire exercises? What's going on out  
th-"

From the opposite direction came three loud, sharp bursts of a siren, and the young women tensed up as quieter echoes of the siren could be heard in other parts of the city. "This isn't a drill," Gina said, "is it?"

"No." Already the other customers were quickening their pace, the employees ushering people out of the stores before drawing down metal shutters across the doors and windows. Angela broke into a jog, gesturing for Gina and Koharu to follow. "There's a shelter near the entrance. We head downstairs and wait it out."

"What if we get trapped?"

"There's usually a way to the underground tunnels. That-"

A howl rang out, raspy, guttural, and too close, followed by the sound of something heavy colliding with metal, and then rumbling. Angela slid to a halt as the stores and balcony in front of her exploded outward in a shower of bent metal, broken masonry, and demolished boxes and bottles. Three stories of mall walls and walkways spilled downward, the back of a fallen GR protruding partway through the side of the structure.

As Gina let out a yelp, Angela pointed in the opposite direction. "Head down the stairs and circle around!" Turning back, she looked down at the rear of the GR. It was familiar to her: A Gimhwa Heavy Industries model, one of the UC series. There was a light near the external hatch release to indicate if pilot safety had been compromised, now blinking a distinct bright orange.

Gina glanced back over her shoulder, stopping after a few steps when she noticed Angela wasn't following them. "Angela! What are you waiting for?"

"The pilot needs help!" she replied. Lowering herself to the ground, she swung her legs over the edge before sliding off.

As her friend disappeared out of sight Gina opened her mouth to respond just as Koharu took her by the wrist. As she was pulled away she gaped at Koharu, gesturing after Angela in disbelief.

"She'll be fine," Koharu said. She hoped that if she sounded convincing enough, it would be so.

*****

The rear hatch opened and Angela stepped inside, crossing from the light of midday to the GR's shadowy interior, lit by the pale glow of the screens. The cockpit was new yet familiar, everything where she expected it to be yet in greater detail and fidelity, a hyperrealist reflection of her own memory. One of the view screens in the corner had broken off; the slumped body of the pilot spoke of what happened after that.

She hurried over, finding him unconscious with a gash in the side of his temple, wet but not deep. Through the remaining screens she could see the chimera, long and sinuous, its serpentine body of raw flesh and streaked hide rolling through the trees. Rising up it lashed out at the other GR with incredible speed for its scale, hitting home and setting it off-balance but doing little damage before being forced back by wild rounds from its weapon. The creature was too large and too close, and radio chatter with the other pilot focused on what could be done and when.

For Angela, that didn't involve backing out.

Unbuckling the pilot, she put one arm across her shoulders and supported him as best she could as she eased him onto the floor. Taking the pilot's seat, she took up both control sticks, eyes instinctively moving to the screens on the console to assess the situation: The right hip was put out of commission when the GR had gone airborne, so standing up wasn't an option. Fortunately both arms and the rifle were still functional, though there were precious few shots left and she knew she couldn't reach the spare munitions without damaging the mall further.

Angela moved the controls and the GR responded in kind, raising its weapon and steadying it with both arms. It was close to what she had experienced for countless hours, but not quite; some movements were more precise, others less so. The consoles gave more information, and the sound was muted but distinctly -different-. She tried to rationalize it and treat it like an arcade machine that hadn't been maintained, or an earlier version. If nothing else, it helped keep her mind off of how dire the situation was.

As the trajectory overlay appeared on the screen Angela held the rifle still, following the chimera's movements with her eyes. The ones she had fought before were polygons and code, but it was all based on reality, and if not then the odds were in her favor: She had seen interviews online of professional GR pilots who had played the arcade simulations, who complained that the chimeras were -too- unpredictable, too cunning in their movements. Experiencing it first-hand she could understand what they meant; there was a pattern to how it moved, rose up and struck, and as it advanced on the other GR once more she moved the rifle and fired.

The chimera rose up into the path of the bullet, a gout of ichor spilling out as it was struck in the base of the neck. It howled as it thrashed its head, and Angela quickly lowered the sights as she followed it up with several more shots to its now-stationary body. As it fell to the ground the other GR performed a coup de grace, first penetrating its head, then pulverizing it.

There was a sudden, uncomfortable stillness as Angela focused on the fallen chimera, watching for any signs of movement before finally noticing noticing that the GR's magazine was empty. The urgency in the voices on the radio had faded, and only then did she relax, slumping in the pilot's seat. In the distance the emergency siren ended, and she smiled to herself, confident that she had helped save the city.

A moment later she heard a collection of different sirens; emergency vehicles, not just ambulances, but the police and the PMCs as well. Over the radio she could hear someone asking about the state of "the other pilot," and she knew that even if she could run or hide, people would find out what happened and track her down. But she couldn't, and she wasn't about to.

Angela pushed herself out of the chair, kneeling beside the pilot and checking his pulse, finding it steady and strong. Without hesitating she moved to the still-open cockpit door, blinking in the light. Outside on the ground floor were several soldiers, their grey and urban camouflage uniforms bearing the shield and angled cross logo of Kendall & Jhun. One pointed, saying something to the others before they aimed their weapons at her, and Angela slowly and deliberately raised her hands.

"It's alright," she called out. "I know what I did. I'll come quietly."


	2. Chapter 2

The official charge was "theft of military hardware," with Kendall & Jhun taking the initiative in Angela's detainment. As they left the mall grounds they were halted by the Kuneywa Police Department, the sergeant on duty arguing that her arrest was their responsibility and not the PMC's. The K&J lieutenant, in turn, countered that as of this moment she was in military custody, and her crime was not civil in nature so therefore it was -their- responsibility. The matter escalated, filtering up both their chains of command, and culminated in both groups silently stewing at each other while Angela stood between them, trying to keep her nervousness to a bare minimum.

Eventually orders came back down to the both of them, and the sergeant angrily dismissed Angela and the soldiers. She was then escorted into the back of an APC and seated between two men who, despite her rough handling, didn't appear to regard her as much of a danger. Twenty minutes later she was ushered back out onto the grounds of Kendall & Jhun's coastal base.

Most of Angela's knowledge about Kendall & Jhun was acquired during her time researching GRs: It began as a manufacturer of early warning scanners before hiring on several squad-size PMCs as full-time recruits and offering their services to the cities and regions of Usorcasi. Defense contracts eventually proved more lucrative than manufacturing, and forty or so years ago they officially rebranded as a private military company. They still maintained strong ties to the companies they worked alongside previously, including Gimhwa, who provided all their GRs and infantry equipment. Their base was a permanent fixture of Kuneywa, and she had always wanted to visit it, though not under these circumstances.

As it stood her "tour" was limited to the military police office for processing, and from there a holding cell to await trial, leaving her to contemplate what she did wrong. Which wasn't anything at all from what she could see; yes, she was a civilian, but she didn't have any intention of trying to steal the GR, and in any case couldn't since it was damaged, and even if it wasn't then trying to return it to a standing position would've brought down more of the mall when people were still trying to evacuate. Engaging the chimera was risky - she knew what could have gone wrong and despite herself it still stuck with her - but she wouldn't have tried if she didn't know how, and no matter the outcome it was still better than just running.

So not wrong. But still illegal.

Angela was fine with that. If anyone in prison asked why she was there, she would tell them the truth.

Telling her mother was another matter.

*****

Day turned to night, then back to morning. The bed in the cell clearly wasn't built for comfort, but at the very least the stories about the poor food quality in PMC bases were massively overstated. Angela had resigned herself to another day of awaiting her fate, but not twenty minutes after she finished her breakfast did two guards appear, opening the cell door. She steeled herself as they escorted her out of holding, but as they exited into the main hallway she glanced at a nearby building directory and noticed that the courtroom was in an entirely different direction. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"The Commander wanted to speak with you personally," one of the guards said. Going all the way up the chain of command, Angela thought, and before the trial besides. The situation was still dire, but this was a clear improvement.

Their path took them to another part of the building, and from there up an elevator to the Commander's private office. Sprawling and spacious, it took up most of the floor, elegantly furnished and with framed white-paneled walls of traditional Usorcasean design. To Angela's left was a long meeting table, to her right a multi-screen teleconferencing system, and before her was a solid-looking desk in front of a full-height window, behind which sat the Commander.

He looked to be in his mid-fifties, clean-shaven and with a full head of grey hair, dressed in a more formal, navy blue version of the standard K&J uniform. As Angela approached she got the impression that he was studying her, and she made a point of not shirking away from his gaze. When she came within a few feet of the desk he casually held up one hand to halt them before gesturing for the guards to leave. "Thank you. You are dismissed."

Angela watched them depart over her shoulder, turning back when the Commander spoke again. "Angela Daihono." He picked a tablet up from his desk, taking a second to read it. "At 1330 hours yesterday you boarded the GR of Lieutenant Sefu Kakure and engaged a Primus-class chimera in combat on the border of Kuneywa, Usorcasi. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"If you're asking me about what happened," she began, "I already told your men during the interrogation, and I know you recorded it."

"Yes." He read from his tablet again. "In the event of chimera incursions, civilians are expected to evacuate to the nearest shelter."

"The pilot was in trouble."

The Commander turned his eyes up from the tablet, looking directly at her. "Civilians are also expected to not interfere in defensive operations."

"...and leave him in there?"

"I'm grateful you went in to rescue one of my men, but we have measures in place to ensure the long-term safety of pilots. Regardless, that is not what I meant. You fired upon the chimera."

"The other pilot needed help, and I wouldn't have tried if I didn't know how."

He fell silent for a moment before speaking again. "As far as we were able to discern, you do not have a background as a pilot, or with GR production or maintenance." Reaching into his desk he produced her smartphone, setting it down in front of him. "By that same token, you do not have connections to other defense outsource companies."

It took a few seconds for Angela to realize what he meant. "You think I'm a -spy?-"

"Thought. We -thought- you were a spy. This does, however, raise the question of how you came about this knowledge."

She pondered for a bit, trying to think of the best way to say it, before going with her instincts. "I play a lot of video games. I probably have at least two hundred hours logged on the Mithril Guard series alone, and I help out with routing for speedr- ...for competitions."

The Commander gave her a look. "Video games are not reflective of how things operate in reality."

"I know, I could tell. But that's the truth."

His attention turned back to the tablet as he lapsed into silence once more, long enough for Angela's anxiousness to fade to impatience. "Miss Daihono," he finally said, "you are in an interesting position. Having considered the details of you and your case I am willing to drop the charges, as despite your rash actions, you had the best interests of the pilot and the city at heart, with no ulterior motives."

Angela fought back a smile. "Thank you, sir!"

"However." He set the tablet down as he looked at her. "Recent transfers and retirements have left us with openings in our ranks, and while some can be filled by promoting from within, others require more specialized talents, pilot aptitude among-"

"You want me to become a pilot?!"

"As a military employee of Kendall & Jhun, you will be required to undergo additional training for-"

"I'll do it." Though his expression didn't betray it, the Commander was taken aback; there was an uncommon resolve in Angela's voice and posture. "I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to put in the work and try. I... I didn't have anything else to do, for a living I mean. I was just doing part-time work and I haven't even decided on a major or a college yet. But I can do this. If you'll give me a chance, I'll do it."

"Very well," the Commander said finally. "There's still the formalities of paperwork and the like, but..." He gave her a faint smile. "Welcome to Kendall & Jhun, -Lieutenant- Daihono. You are dismissed."

Her smile was practically luminescent. "Thank you, sir!" Angela made a motion to turn before remembering that her phone was on his desk, and she approached, picking it up before striding away. She navigated through menus with her thumb as she walked before stopping suddenly in her tracks. "Oh boy that's a lot of messages," she muttered.

"Is something the matter?" the Commander asked.

"It's fine." She continued towards the door as she opened her contacts list, tapping on the one labeled "Home" before raising the phone to her ear. "Hi mom, i-" Wincing, she pulled it away as her mother's voice came through, indistinct but still loud enough for the Commander to hear it across the room. Looking back at him, Angela forced a smile before speaking to her again. "Mom, I- ...mom. Mom! I- ...wh- no, mom, I'm- yes, I'm fine mom! I'm fine, I didn't get hurt." A pause. "I was arrested an- no, mom, I'm- no, they dropped the charges." Another pause. "No, I'm not going to jail. Actually, they offered me a job, and I said yes." She glanced back at the Commander. "No, not the police. As a GR pilot with Kendall & Jh-" Angela pulled the phone away from her ear again, holding her other hand over the speaker to muffle the shouting. "Oh boy."


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Angela did was promise her mother that she would return home as soon as possible and explain in person, which she did. The trip was intended to give her time to think of what to say, but not more than halfway there did she decide to simply tell her the truth. She probably wouldn't like it, but if Angela lied she would find out eventually, and besides, it was her own mother. For her part, at least, she was honest to Angela in turn.

"That was incredibly stupid and you scared the life out of me." She sighed, running her hands through her hair. "But you're safe, for now."

The "for now" lead to questions about her new career and its safety. Angela had enough knowledge to draw upon with regards to that, and explained why piloting thirty-foot-tall transforming humanoid armor to fight wild animals that were subjected to dire levels of afflictive energies and altered into amalgams of limbs and organs that occasionally wandered close enough to populated areas to pose a threat wasn't dangerous, though not in those exact words. She focused more on the durability of GRs and the precautions taken to ensure the pilots were protected, as well as the fact that Kendall & Jhun had never involved itself in a conflict involving other people. Her mother looked reluctant but eventually relented, but as she pulled Angela in for a hug there was a sadness in her eyes that Angela couldn't place.

*****

The Kendall & Jhun orientation wasn't so different from the orientation at her last workplace: Corporate history, values, codes of conduct, benefits, and so on. Though it was a bit stricter, certainly, and also quite a bit longer, with all the paperwork and briefings taking the better part of two days. It wasn't anything she didn't already either know in some form or couldn't handle, though there was the matter of having to be ready to deploy when one was scheduled.

"Do I commute to the base every day from home?" she asked.

"You can," was the reply, "though you can get housing on-base."

The housing in question turned out to be a recently renovated one-bedroom apartment, modern and well-furnished. Angela wasn't sure what she wanted out of a private living space but this was more than enough for her, and she wasted no time in making the necessary arrangements to obtain it. A single overloaded trip was enough to bring over everything she needed, and an hour later she had made herself at home.

As she relaxed in the living room, catching up on the news - and not being part of it, a welcome change - there were three slow knocks at her door. Standing, she padded over and opened it to find a young man in K&J uniform with a bullpup coilgun in a front sling, a demi not much older than her.

"Lieutenant Daihono?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Corporal Senri Saito, base security for Kendall & Jhun. I've been assigned to show you around and help you get acquainted with the place." He was two or three inches taller than her, lean and long-faced. By her estimate he was a shark demi of some sort; his skin was two-toned in muted grey and grey-blue, deep blue eyes, and dark grey hair in a modest undercut, trimmed close along the sides and back. His features and teeth were both sharper than the average, and his expression was somber but not unwelcoming.

Angela blinked. "Oh! One second." Ducking in, she scooped the keys off the table before stepping outside, closing and locking the door behind her. "So what's the plan?"

Senri began to walk, Angela falling into step beside him. "There's a route around the perimeter of the base that encompasses the important buildings. I'll point them out as we come across them."

She nodded. "Sounds good." A second later she added, "you're not from this part of the country, are you."

"No. Why?"

"Your accent."

"Kayabe. I transferred two years ago."

"How are things over there?"

He stared off into the distance before giving a light shake of his head. "Not good."

"Oh." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Lieutenant. It's better here. Quieter."

"You can just call me by my name," Angela said. "I'm not going to court martial you for it or anything."

Senri's lips parted ever so slightly before he hesitated, and he glanced downward, lightly nodding after a bit. "Daihono, then."

She shrugged. "It's a start."

*****

"...and over there," Senri said, pointing, "is the recreation center. From here you follow the main road around to the residential area again-" He swept his finger across to the right. "-or head that way to the main gate."

Angela gave the area a once-over, trying to commit it to memory. "What's in the rec center?"

"A gym, pool, an arcade-"

"An arcade?" she asked, perking up. "What's in it?"

He thought for a second. "Pool tables, some old cabinets-"

"Anything good?"

"There's..." He shook his head as he made a light helpless gesture with one hand. "One of those machines that have multiple games in them."

"A Mega Plega?"

"I'm not an expert. Mostly the others hook their consoles up to the TVs for multiplayer. If you wanted it you could have free reign of the arcade machines and pool, since nobody really uses them."

She wasn't much of a swimmer, Angela thought, though she could think of something else to do there. "They don't swim in the bay, do they? I know the base is at the edge of the water, but-"

"-the Wild Zone off the coast," Senri finished.

"Right, I wouldn't want to be in that." She did a slow look around her again before turning back to Senri. "But thank you."

He looked at her oddly. "For what?"

"For taking your time to help me." She smiled. "Maybe we could meet up again if you're on patrol? If it's not a distraction, that is."

He turned his eyes downward for a few seconds before meeting her gaze again. "Maybe."

With a nod to the other they both turned and walked away, Senri heading for administration and Angela for her apartment. After a few paces she slowed to a stop, watching him over her shoulder, brow furrowed in worry before shaking it off and continuing on.


	4. Chapter 4

While Angela's new apartment was quite nice and practically free besides, it also provided a solution to a problem many individuals her age had: Namely, it offered a level of privacy that one didn't have when living with their family. She was, like so many others her age, graced with an active libido, and even if her interests were mainstream there were some things you didn't want your parents finding, seeing, or hearing. Even if one was discrete about them - careful in their purchase, quiet in their use - it was hard to be discrete when it came to smuggling your date up to your room, especially when your mother did most of her business in the kitchen.

All of that was officially out the window.

Hidden between layers of folded clothing and smuggled out of her room were a half-empty box of afflictive tabs, her click pump, and a silent personal massager that was better at being silent than massaging her personally. The tabs and pump went into a drawer next to her bed, and the massager went into the trash. One trip out of the base to a store she resolved to visit more frequently later, and she was in possession of two more sets of tabs, several tonics for afflictions she had tried once or twice, and a new toy.

As soon as she was able she drew the shades on the windows, stripped off her clothes, and made herself comfortable on top of her bed, vibrator and pump at her side. She rolled a tab out of the box, placing it on her tongue and letting it dissolve. Her fingers touched against her navel, feeling it shrink and deepen as a faint sense of hollowness welled up beneath it. Reaching over she picked up her pump, uncoiling the hose and plugging the tip into her, pausing only to make sure it was in place before clicking the button.

Angela inhaled sharply as a long puff of air flowed into her, her belly rising up in a low curve. She let out her breath in a long sigh, running her free hand across her abdomen before clicking again, feeling her body swell and her skin stretch beneath her fingertips. She inflated herself slowly, deliberately so, pausing each new addition of air to get a sense of her size; she wanted to feel it with her own hands, and see it in the dim light of the bedroom, illuminated through drawn shades.

Her belly grew and filled, bit by bit, soon larger than any pregnancy. She only stopped when the hose grew taut, holding her end of the click pump off the bed; with a tug the nozzle pulled loose and slid off of her, freeing up her second hand to press and roam across herself. She had only gotten to this scale on her own a few times before, either when she knew she had the privacy or when she was with someone else. It was a size that put beach balls to shame, lifting up off her frame and looming over her like a pale moon, a sight and sensation that stuck with her since the first time she did it.

Beyond the simple stoked flames of desire that the sight brought, the fullness of her belly also created an insistent pressure on Angela's sex which only magnified her need, reminding her of how large she was. She groped blindly beside her for her vibrator, and with a click it thrummed to life as she spread her knees. While it wasn't silent, it was startlingly effective in massaging her personally.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't a game, Angela reminded herself. She was working for a real company, assigned to pilot a real GR, keeping real chimeras from getting too close to her very real home city populated with hundreds of thousands of people, including her mother and friends. There was more at risk than the loss of progress or a few denari, but even so, she felt impatient. It was less out of a desire to begin piloting in earnest - though that was a factor, she had to admit - and more a want to see the anticipation and preparation over and done with. Ripping off the bandage, so to speak.

Her itinerary for the day took her to the base's medical center to, among other more obvious things, acquire her pilot suit. It wasn't busy, which was a good omen for the base in general, but even though she arrived early she still found herself waiting. After being called in by a nurse and lead to one of the rooms she took a seat on the examination table and continued to wait, so in that respect at least it wasn't that much different from the civilian sector.

When the doctor finally appeared, Angela was struck by just how young she was. She had to have been around Angela's age, judging from the youthfulness of her heart-shaped face; were it not for the pale blue doctor's tunic and khakis she was wearing, she would have taken her for a nurse. She was five feet tall, if that, with wavy brown hair hanging just above her collar, and while Angela couldn't describe her as "fat," she still had a bit of weight on her frame, though most of it went to her bust and hips. As she closed the door behind her, tablet in hand, Angela spotted a K&J ID tag identifying her as "Anita Schweitzer" hanging from her front pocket.

"Lieutenant Angela Daihono," Anita read. "A new hire." Hazel eyes turned towards her. "Your last checkup with your primary care physician was recent enough that we just had them send over your records, so you're off the hook. You just need to answer a few questions to make sure it's you and that nothing's changed." Her voice was terse; not much of a bedside manner, Angela thought. "Date of birth?"

"Frithmonath 11," Angela said, "1972."

"A week apart," she murmured, typing on the tablet with her free hand.

"From you? The same year?"

"Yes. Blood type?"

"O negative. How did you become a doctor so quickly?"

"The same way I graduated high school before my peers. Do you take any illegal narcotics?"

"No. So you skipped grades and got your degree early? That's really impressive."

Anita's expression softened. "I suppose. Are you on any prescription medications?"

"No." Angela uncrossed, then crossed her legs again. "Kendall & Jhun must have hired you straight out of college."

"More or less. Do you drink alcohol?"

"Sometimes. Once or twice a month, and not enough to get a hangover. You're amazing. I've never met a child prodigy before."

There was genuine awe in Angela's voice, and Anita tried to look as professional and casual as she could as she turned her back to her, making a big show of reading from her tablet to conceal deeply she was blushing. "I-its nothing special. It happens all the time."

She blinked. "It really doesn't, you're-"

"Can I get back to work?" Anita snapped, giving Angela a look as she turned back to her.

"Sorry."

After a pause, she continued. "Have you been within a quarter-mile of the borders of a Wild Zone or afflicted yourself in the past week?"

"Yes."

"Are you sexually active?"

"Yes."

"That explains it," she muttered. She opened the door, and with a gesture to a folded gown on the counter she brusquely said, "strip, put that on, and follow the signs down to Pilot Uniform Fitting."

"Strip?" Angela asked. "Down to w-"

"All of it," she replied, as the door closed behind her.

Angela was a little bewildered by Anita's sudden turn but did as she was told, swapping her clothes out for the hospital gown and heading for uniform fitting. It was less of a room and more of a very large closet featuring a full-body scanner built into one wall, complete with touchscreen interface. Two footprints on the square panel on the floor were a clear indication of where to stand and the UI provided the rest, mostly consisting of "disrobe" and "stand still until the scan is completed." Admittedly, she didn't know how pilot suits were made, but considering how form-fitting they were running the wearer through a three-dimensional scanner made sense in retrospect.

What didn't make sense at first was when a render of a suit that fit her figure came up with a series of pattern and color menus beside it. It felt too video game-y, in a way, like it was character customization. A second later it hit her that it -was-, insofar as she was customizing what her suit looked like. So, after seeing what her options were, she settled on a vertical pattern in light blue, black, and white, and confirmed it before being presented with a progress bar. It was perhaps a two or three minute wait, and as it neared the end she could feel the room grow warmer by a few degrees. When it finally finished the screen gave her a "thank you" message, and the panel beside the device opened to reveal a sliding shelf with two folded, identical suits in the same colors and pattern she had chosen.

It was the first time Angela saw a pilot's suit in person, much less touched one. Orichalcum weave, she reminded herself; temporary protection if she went down in a Wild Zone. For something made mostly of metal fibers it was remarkably flexible. There was a fine pattern to it, and the texture felt similar to a lot of fabrics but not any one specifically.

She shed her gown and picked up one of the suits by the shoulders, letting it unfurl. It was a single piece which split vertically starting at the waist and going up to the collar, so putting it on was as simple as stepping into it before pulling it up and sliding the sleeves on. It was still quite loose, however, and she wondered what else it took until she found a raised section around her right cuff. She gave it a press and the material pulled close with surprising quickness, the opening knitting together in the front and back as it ran up her spine and sternum.

Blinking, she held her arms out, turning them over as she inspected herself. She had always thought that the suits were tight, and it was, but not quite the way she expected. Rather than pressing against her like a pair of leggings, it conformed exactly to her body, knowing exactly what her figure was. "Snug" was close, but it didn't feel confining; if anything it was like a second skin. If she was being honest with herself, Angela wasn't sure if she felt more or less naked when wearing it.

...and if she was being brutally honest, part of her didn't really care.

Picking up the robe and her other suit, she opened the door and leaned out in time to see Anita walk past. Anita glanced over, stopped as she did a double-take, noticed that Angela was wearing a suit and visibly went from confusion to annoyance to exasperation in the span of two seconds.

Holding up the suit and gesturing to herself, Angela asked, "is it okay if I wear this home?"


	6. Chapter 6

It was a Gimhwa Heavy Industries UC-85-A. Thirty-two feet tall, two-seat cockpit, a running land speed of 32 miles per hour and air speed of 440. Not new, but very reliable and probably one of Gimhwa's best designs as far as anti-chimera combat was concerned. GRs used the maneuvering jets for aerial mode to stay upright, but the UC-85-A's redundant gyroscope system and predictive counter-balancing meant that nothing short of a Primus-class knocking it airborne would tip it over. First-hand experience taught Angela that it wasn't as much of a hypothetical situation as she suspected.

More importantly, it was -hers-.

Angela's first mission - her first real, honest to goodness mission piloting a real GR - was a patrol in the outskirts of Kuneywa. Even with early warning sensors it was important to have people on hand able to intercept any incoming chimeras. It was the sort of thing that often worked as a segue into mid-game missions, but at least from a civilian perspective it didn't happen nearly as often.

"Hurry up and wait" was a phrase familiar to her, but even so she made a point to arrive early to take in -her- GR. The other pilot wasn't around yet, or at least not in that part of the hangar, so not only was she unable to meet them, she also didn't have a point of comparison to determine whether coupling her bodysuit with just a short-sleeved hoodie and sneakers was a faux pas. Nobody seemed to be staring, though.

As she stood by the diagnostic console admiring the smooth angles of the GR's frame, another young woman approached, straight-featured, a dark braid trailing partway down her back, and a pair of sturdy-looking glasses perched on her nose. Judging from her overalls, work boots, and the dark stains on her sweatshirt, Angela figured she was part of the ground crew.

"Hi, I'm working on- ...I'm with the-" She lowered her head, taking a second to compose her thoughts before her green eyes met Angela's again. "I'm Hyun-Jae Jin. I'm one of the engineers that've been assigned to your GR."

"Hi there," she replied. "I'm Angela."

Hyun-Jae glanced over at one of the screens. "Lieutenant Daihono, right?"

"Just 'Angela' is fine," she said, with a reassuring smile.

"Al-alright, um." She pointed up to one of the cranes, which was maneuvering a large, straight-magazined rifle towards one of the GR's hardpoints on its side. "We're outfitting your GR with a standard rifleman kit: Sidearm and assault rifle."

She eyed the weapon for a few seconds. "That's the Bruget StK-30, right? 5 caliber, caseless ammo?"

"Yeah! Yeah. And, um, you have a co-pilot."

From the console came a feminine voice, even and professional. "Hello, Lieutenant Daihono."

The voice gave Angela pause. They had a third-tier in a GR, she wondered? "Were you transplanted?" she asked, looking up at the GR.

"Yes, five years ago. Previously I worked in heavy industry." The head tilted to look down at Angela, and one of the hands turned and gave a small wave of its fingers. "I managed the support for the previous pilot."

"There has to be a lot of down time."

"There is, but being a GR has been an exciting experience. You visit a lot of untouched nature that's been growing since the Summoning that people rarely ever see. The scale is also something few experience; it's very interesting being able to hold a person in the palm of your hand."

Angela arched an eyebrow. "-Really-."

"Um," Hyun-Jae began. As Angela looked back at her, she continued. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you become a pilot? Were you originally in manufacturing? Ground defense?"

After a long silence, she gave a helpless shrug. "They hired me because I was good at video games."

It was then Angela learned that Hyun-Jae had the most amazing laugh. High and lilting, almost musical in a way, punctuated by the occasional snort. A few members of the ground crew paused to stare at her, and she had the impression that her co-pilot did too. As she finally calmed down she adjusted her glasses, looking at Angela with a smile. "They did -not-."

"That is exactly what happened."

"What, Kendall & Jhun found you outside of an arcade?"

"Yes." A beat. "In one of their GRs, after it was knocked through the outer wall and into the mall."

Realization visibly dawned on her. "That was -you?!- I heard rumors about a civilian but... wow. I didn't think they'd actually hire them. Er, you."

"It was a special case."

"No kidding." She scratched the back of her neck. "You're actually one of the first people I've met on Kendall payroll that plays GR sims. Most of them are into Third Frontier or whatever the newest Vanguard is."

"Do you play GR sims?"

"Not really, no. Mostly building games, delvers, and da-" Hyun-Jae cut herself short, and her tone became almost apologetic. "Visual novels."

"That's okay. There's a lot of good ones out there." Three sharp tones played across the hangar speakers, followed by a series of announcements to the pilots and crew. Angela tilted her head up, listening, before turning her attention back to Hyun-Jae again. "I think it's time to get to the cockpit. Can we talk later?"

She stammered for a bit before composing herself. "Sure," she said with a nervous smile. "I'd, I'd like that."


	7. Chapter 7

Even the most accurate of GR games was still abstracted on some level, but fortunately Angela's co-pilot was there to provide assistance. When it came to the start-up procedure Angela knew the major beats and most of the minor ones, but where she hesitated, the AI was there. She cast no judgment, speaking patiently and matter-of-factly, and with her guidance she maneuvered the GR out of the hangar without incident, following the other pilot along the shoreline path around the city into the wilderness outside of Kuneywa. Angela assumed that the choice to have her deploy without having to fly was deliberate, which she couldn't blame them for. Baby steps, she thought, or an extended tutorial.

She was right about the Wild Zone, though. There was a lushness and color to the greenery that Angela never saw before, at least not in person. She did remember the games as looking good, but she never really focused on it these days. Strange how that happened.

As she followed the other GR a thought came to mind. "I'm sorry," she began, "but I didn't get your name."

"I don't have one," the AI responded.

"What did the other pilot call you?"

"'Computer.'" In response to Angela's frown she added, "it was a statement of fact, nothing more. He was very professionally-minded."

"What about other people?"

"'UC-85-A Unit 14,' though that's more accurately the GR itself and not me."

Angela nodded, lapsing into thought. "How about 'Charlotte?'"

"Charlotte?"

"For you. You're not the GR; you said it yourself."

"I am the GR, but I'm also me, connected to and independent from it."

"Do you mean... the mental and physical being separate?"

"Of a sort. But 'Charlotte' will do nicely. Thank you."

There was a low chirp before a cut-in of the other GR pilot slid into view in the corner of the screen, "Lt. R. Chauncey" displayed beneath it. He was green-eyed, with soft features and a mane of fluffy blond hair, wearing a bomber jacket over his pilot suit. "How you holdin' up, Daihono?" He blinked, leaning in for a second before grinning. "Oh wow, you're really easy on the eyes."

Angela smiled. "Thanks, you're cute too. I'm doing fine, but I have help." She scanned the forest in front of her. "They said this was low risk."

"Yeah." His GR slowed to a halt in a clearing, Angela stopping as she followed his lead. "The Primus-class that you took out was preying on the smaller chimeras in the area," he said, leaning back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head. It's going to be a while until anything gets big enough to pose a threat."

"You heard?"

"'course I heard. Why d'you think I made sure I went with you on your first sortie? So, is it everything you expected?"

"Yes, mostly," she replied, looking around the cockpit. "There might be less fighting, but that's not a bad thing."

"Especially since K&J isn't an outfit that pays by the bounty."

She frowned. "I heard about them. You have to sign a three-year contract, they underpay, and they can sue you if you quit early. It's dishonest."

"Tell me about it. I'm glad they're goin' under. You're in good hands here, though."

"I noticed." A beat later she added, "Kendall has been treating me well, too."

He gave Angela a knowing look as he leaned forward, tapping a few keys on his GR's console. A second later a red dot appeared on the inlaid map. "Our next patrol point is here." He sat back in his chair, taking up the controls. "Just so you know, if you're ever lonely, there's a lot of women who are into pilots. And men."

"Speaking from experience?"

He smiled. "Maybe. Chauncey out." With that his image slid out of view, and the line went silent.

As Angela eased the GR into motion, Charlotte spoke up. "You're interested in him."

"He seems alright," she replied. "Why, should I watch out for him?"

"Robert has several odd interests, but the entire time I've known of him he hasn't caused trouble."

"Odd, how?"

"The most polite way to put it would be that he's an experimental, promiscuous bon vivant."

"Alright," she said, nodding.

A few seconds later Charlotte said, "if he makes an offer you should take him up on it."

She glanced upward with a light smile. "Are you trying to hook us up?"

"Yes. Though I should mention that as part of pilot safety routines the GR is monitoring - among other things - heartbeat, perspiration, and pupil dilation, and that Robert did provoke a particular combination of physiological responses from you."

"To be fair..." Angela began.


	8. Chapter 8

When they returned to the base Robert complimented Angela on a job well done, and gave her some advice on her piloting based on what he had seen. There was a good amount that she didn't know, or that she would have to un-learn, and it was honestly humbling considering that she wasn't used to having her abilities second-guessed. The conversation eventually turned to the less formal, and Angela extended an offer to Robert to come over at any time if he so desired. He in turn asked if Angela was much of a drinker.

"I've been known to," Angela replied.

"Any brands you're fond of?" Robert asked. "Anything exotic?"

"I try to keep an open mind about new tastes."

"Okay," he said with a smile. "I'll bring over something nice."

After the connection cut out Charlotte asked, "was that euphemistic?"

"Yes," Angela said, "and I'm glad he understood." She was suddenly aware of the ground and radio crew, and felt herself go red in the cheeks.

"You were speaking on a secure signal. I thought it would be prudent."

She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Have you done this before? Being a wingwoman, I mean."

"No. But I'm a fast learner."

*****

Robert had gotten the hint, on all levels: He appeared at her door just after sundown, elbow braced against the door frame as he gave her a roguish smile. In one hand was an opened wine bottle, clearly not an ordinary vintage owing to his rich blue skin tone and deep violet blush. Between their return and now he had changed into street clothes, but the buttons on his shirt and jeans had been forced open by the bulge of his belly, a trail of fuzz visible leading from below his navel into the elastic band of his boxers.

"It looks like you started without me," Angela said coyly. She gently pressed one hand into the underside of his stomach, the contents flowing and shifting as his skin gave easily.

"You need to make sure the wine hasn't gone bad before you serve it." Robert patted the back of her hand. "...and you can't visit someone without bringing a gift, now can you?"

"Well, since you're being so formal..." She took his hand, leading him inside and closing the door behind them. She wasn't wearing only a camisole and panties for the people outside, after all. "...I'm glad I dressed for the occasion."

"We can still go out, if you'd like."

"No thank you." Leading him in front of the couch, Angela gave Robert a gentle push, and he obligingly fell into the seat. She climbed on her knees onto the cushion before straddling his legs, sitting on his lap and resting against his belly. Moving her head in, she reached behind him, fingers brushing through his hair. "I can think of more fun things to do here."

His kiss tasted of fine spirits and blueberries, sweet with a faint hint of sourness. Angela pressed into him and he pressed back, her lips parting as she let his tongue slide in. Her hands roamed downward, caressing either side of his belly; Robert's skin was warm and soft, the juice beneath it moving beneath her touch. As she gently kneaded it she felt it roll against her, swelling out to the sides as she put her weight on it. She had played with water balloons before, and seen her share of Wild Fruit binge videos, but having someone under the effects of it - the feeling and the taste and the -smell- - literally at her fingertips was on another level entirely.

For his part Robert carried himself with confidence, almost teasing in the way he met her kiss and then drew back, waiting for her to follow. The bottle of wine was still in one hand, but the other was around her back, holding her but not holding her close. It was a display of dominance, having Angela show that she was eager to be there, but through his veiled reactions when she deliberately hesitated, she could have said the same for him. Doubly so, once one hand roamed beneath the curve of his gut and into his boxers. "You're really swollen down here," she said. "Or are you just like this normally?"

He smiled. "Would you be more impressed if I said 'yes?'"

With a smoldering look she shuffled back off the couch and lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. It took very little to get him to spread his legs, and she took his length from the confines of his clothes. Her tongue peeked out between her lips before she opened her mouth and leaned in, stopping when her forehead bumped against his belly. Tilting her head she tried again, with limited success, before drawing back. Looking up at him she reached for his arm, pushing him to her left. "Lie down," she said. "Your gut's in the way."

Robert did as he was commanded, tipping over and reclining on his back in front of her. "It's easier to reach it when-" He saw her head disappear partway behind the blue dome of his stomach and felt her mouth engulf him, warm and slippery. "-when people are rounder. Their dicks are easier-"

Angela gave the side of his belly a playful slap, hearing it slosh beside her as her head bobbed slowly on him. She heard his breathing deepen, and felt his hand gently brush her hair as he muttered words of praise and encouragement. As she ran her tongue along the underside of his length, there was nothing about him that she didn't savor, as even his sweat tasted of berries. She held him by the base with one hand, sliding the other into her panties to try and take the edge off the growing need and thoughts of the bottle in his grasp.

He gave her head a firm pat before he felt him twitch between her lips, and she flashed him an okay sign before quickening her pace. His body tensed up, and a moment later he spilled into her mouth, heavy and unusually tart. When she was sure he was finally done she pulled away, pursing her lips closed and wiping a milky blue string from the corner of her mouth.

Robert slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, weighed down as he was by the sloshing juice in his gut, and glanced around the room. "Is there a box of tissues around here that we can-" As he turned towards Angela she saw her swallow, letting out a quiet sigh as she wiped her lips. "Huh."

"There's a box in the bedroom," Angela said, pointing. As he followed her gesture she added, "but if you're offering then I could use-" Her arm snapped out, and she yanked the bottle of wine from his grasp, pirouetting back on her free hand and knees.

"Hey!" he laughed.

"-something to clean my mouth out," she finished, standing. Raising the bottle with a flourish she began gulping the wine down; were it not for the tang of alcohol she could have mistaken it for normal juice.

Robert moved to a sitting position, watching her. Already her belly was growing round as a deep violet patch spread out from her navel. "You know that's pretty potent, right?"

She nodded and gave a muffled "mmm," as the color rose. As it engulfed her breasts they began to fill out, the fabric of her camisole pulling taut. Below, the elastic of her panties began to grow tight as her hips and backside grew heavy.

"You're not gonna be able to move."

With a gasp she lowered the bottle, her entire body wobbling. Her stomach had easily surpassed Robert's in size, melon-sized breasts resting atop it like a shelf. As she took a step forward to pass the bottle back to him her foot fell heavy against the floor, butt and thighs wobbling as she let out an audible sloshing sound. "Whatever will I do?" she asked, voice laden with faux concern. "I'm just going to turn into this big ball of juice, at the mercy of-" With a quiet snap her panties gave out on one side, and she reflexively looked down, not really able to see much past her distinctly wider figure. "Oh."

Robert set the wine down and reached out, hooking a finger into the side of her panties. He shimmied it down her thigh, now wider than Angela's waist normally, and as the blue-dyed cloth moved down her leg he extended his free hand towards her sex. Angela shivered as his fingers touched her, then slipped inside of her, moving in a slow, steady rhythm as his thumb massaged her clit.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, keep going." She stretched one arm down, finding herself too large to reach, instead settling for squeezing as much of her bloated belly as she could. A tear formed on the front of her camisole, ripping down the front and exposing her breasts, and she cupped one, the skin overflowing her fingers as she tried to stimulate as much as herself as possible. The mounting weight and stretching, how the growth seemed to throb in time with her heartbeat, the sight and sensation that this was all -her-, and she was still getting bigger... Robert was dextrous, but once he leaned in, kissing and tracing his tongue across her deep-set navel, Angela felt herself go over the edge. Her body clenched up, trembling, and her mind went hazy a second before her knees buckled and she teetered backward, landing painlessly on the floor.

Robert let out a cry of alarm, but his concern was unnecessary. Angela was fine; more than fine, as the impact caused the building juice inside of her to slosh and sway, pressing against her from the inside and driving her to orgasm once more as it flowed freely from her nipples and between her legs. As her body rolled and swayed there was a low gurgling and bubbling and every part of her surged out, arms pushed to the sides and legs going stiff. She watched as her front rose up, her head lifted off the ground as her back rounded out, and held firm as her neck bulged up around her chin.

"Are you alright?" Robert asked, concerned, as he came into view by her side.

"Robby," she said, urgency in her voice. "I need you to fuck me. Now."

He gave his belly a gentle slap. "This gets in the way, remember?"

"You have a tongue, right?"

He did. And he was very good at using it.

*****

The scent of sex and blueberries lingered long after the night had passed, but neither were unwanted, serving as reminders to Angela of her first night as a berry. Other reminders proved to be less desirable, but if nothing else, they taught her how to get juice stains out of the rug.


	9. Chapter 9

It took a while for Angela to get around to visiting the arcade, but just as Senri said, there was a Mega Plega cabinet, unused by the staff and soldiers inside in favor of a split-screen deathmatch currently happening on the television. There was only one game in it that was even remotely new, but it gave Angela the opportunity to catch up on some older titles including, of all things, Alien Vendetta. She had briefly run it in the past before being pulled away by things going on in her life, never playing it again until now. An attempt at a one-credit clear to see if she still had it reminded her of what the problem was in the late-game, and she ended up spending two more credits on the last stage before walking away during the ending in disgust.

She explored the building a bit to clear her mind, eventually finding herself at the pool and, with it, Senri. It was the first time she had seen him without a shirt on, and the fact that he didn't go without it more often was almost criminal. His figure lent a power and grace to his movements in the water that was almost at odds with how he acted on duty and when they were together. He seemed almost to pull in and withdraw into himself outside, especially around others, but here...

When Senri surfaced again at the far side of the pool he spotted her near the door, hesitating as he watched her. She approached the edge, sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor before waving to him, and after a few seconds of deliberation he dove beneath the surface, crossing the pool and coming up beside her. "Yes?"

"I came to say hi," she replied. "I don't see you much off-duty."

"I... I don't go out much."

"Really? You don't hang out with your friends or...?" Senri shook his head. Brow furrowed, Angela asked, "what do you do when you're not working?"

"Stay at home. Watch movies and television."

"Like what? What kinds, I mean."

"Mysteries. Dramas."

"It sounds lonely."

Senri turned his eyes downward as he lapsed into silence.

"Did you want company?"

His head turned up and he stared at her before lightly shaking his head. "You don't need to waste your time with me."

"It's not a waste of time. If I thought it was I wouldn't have asked."

After a moment of silent contemplation he glided away, swimming for the nearby ladder and climbing out. As he rose out of the water Angela could see a round scar the size of a coin on his back, around where his left kidney was. "Can you wait a moment?"

"Yes, of course."

Angela stood as Senri headed for the changing room, coming back out a few minutes later with a small duffel bag and wearing a very plain-looking T-shirt and jeans. He gave her a quiet nod, and with that they were off.

*****

Senri's apartment was positively barren, with no pictures or decorations to speak of, and Angela briefly wondered if he had just moved in before remembering that he was at the base for two years. He excused himself before heading into his bedroom, and she lingered by the door before succumbing to concern, briefly ducking into the kitchen nearby and checking the refrigerator. The contents were modest, but at least he was eating properly.

As he returned, he explained that he had just started a particular series. It took place during Kaldean civil war, nearly five centuries ago, and as the opening began Angela realized that she was completely out of her element. Some of the names were familiar from school, but only vaguely. She knew that Kaldea had a royal family and some sort of representative government - a parliament, maybe; were parliaments the same as senates? - but it was hundreds of years behind her and partway across the world. So when the action focused on one character that she didn't recognize and was never named, she did the only thing that came to mind.

"Who's that guy?" she asked, pointing.

"Clayton Maynard," Senri replied.

"I don't know who that is."

The explanation lead to another question, and another still when the scene moved on. As the show continued Senri explained about the Shalmine royalists and Republican forces, the concessions the royalists made to gain the Republicans' support, and the uneasy truce forged between the monarchy and the Totalists. He spoke of the history behind it, and what had changed since then. It was intricate, but he made it seem understandable, and for the first time since they met, Angela saw Senri -smile-. It was light, the tips of his sharp teeth barely exposed, but unguarded. His tone was normally flat, but this time - when she was with him - there was emotion in his voice, faint but distinct. Such a small change, yet so dramatic, and when the afternoon passed to evening she regretted having to see it fade.

Not wanting to impose on him for dinner, Angela excused herself as the credits of one episode rolled, but not before convincing him to exchange numbers. She told him not to worry about being a bother and to call whenever he wanted, even if it was just to talk. Even if he never did, she wanted him to know that the option was there.

*****

There was a privately-owned pub on the base, modest in size, not too busy at that particular day and time, and with a copy of its menu posted outside that was extensive enough that Angela had to take a moment to look at its selection. Not wanting to take an entire table to herself she took a seat at the bar, the only other person at it being a rather drunk young woman in a muted grey-green dress. It took a moment to realize that it was Anita, and that just having water to drink with her army stew might be a good idea.

For her part Anita didn't say much, only turning her attention to Angela when she had begun eating. "So," she slurred, "I bet -you- had fun today."

Angela took a second to finish chewing before replying. "It went okay."

"I'll bet." There was a note of disgust in her voice, and she took another drink from her glass. "My friends set me up on a date with another sexual predator."

"Really?"

"They're all I ever seem to fuckin' encounter. Jus' scumbags that see me as a sexual conquest. Then they keep actin' like -I'm- th' bad guy when it's obvious they have shit judg'ment." She threw back the remaining contents of her glass, gesturing with it to the bartender before setting it down on the bar with a sharp clack. "Some friends they are."

"Have you gone on dates that weren't set up by your friends?" Angela asked. The look Anita gave her told her that yes, she had, and that any further inquiry was out of the question. Angela uneasily looked over at the man behind the bar as he poured Anita another drink. Their eyes met, and as Anita looked down at the glass he gave a very small shake of his head, mouthing "they were nice" to her. Angela's eyes went from him to the bottle, and she quietly gave Anita a pointed look. When he stopped pouring he casually held the bottle with both hands as he turned away, drumming four fingers and a thumb against the side where she could see.

She returned to her dinner, watching and listening as Anita's posture and diction rapidly grew worse and wondering what she should do, if anything. When the bartender told Anita that he was cutting her off and she snapped at him, letting out a nearly incomprehensible and unrepeatable curse, Angela mind quickly settled on an answer. Finishing her meal, she fished out several bills and laid them on the bar before standing and approaching Anita. Taking her by the wrist she raised one of her arms and placed it over her shoulder before sliding Anita off her stool, holding her piggyback; the doctor wasn't really coordinated or lucid enough to put up much resistance.

"Hedaniss' predaturr," she grumbled.

"Where does Anita live?" Angela asked the bartender. "Would you know?"

"I could check her tab," he replied. He paged through a screen on his side of the counter before reading, "Lot 35, Third Coast Street."

A quick map search on Angela's phone revealed it wasn't far at all. Certainly within walking distance with another person on her shoulders, at least. "I'll get her home." Gesturing to the bills she added, "keep the change."

*****

As they left the pub, the topic of Anita's barely-connected sentences turned to wild claims about Angela's sexual deviancy, her predatory nature, and how her behavior was a calculated facade. While slightly offensive - and completely baseless - Angela had to wonder why she would think that about not only her but so many other people. Something bad might have happened to her, but if that were the case then why would her friends keep trying to set her up on dates?

Tapping the phone screen with her thumb, she began to look up how to treat extreme drunkenness. She had no first-hand experience, and it was a level of inebriation that served as a strong argument against ever getting to that point herself. That Anita would put herself into a position of such vulnerability was telling as well, especially if she was so fearful of others. It was like some kind of social deduction game; somehing up Hyun-Jae's alley, probably, but calling her for help was out of the question.

When she turned her attention back to Anita she noticed that she had calmed down at some point, murmuring quietly to herself. Angela felt her arms pull around her neck, attempting to draw herself closer to her, and she was made keenly aware of the padding on her figure pressing against her back, the thickness of her thighs in her hands, and her warm breath against her neck. The experience was tempered somewhat by the knowledge that she had five drinks in her, and if anything went wrong all of that was going to end up exactly there.

Fortunately they arrived at Anita's apartment without incident, and a quick search of her purse revealed her keys. They entered, and Angela eased her into a chair, taking a second to marvel at just how green Anita looked. "Stay put," she said, "I'll get you something."

"Prolly a benzo or an aficktiv' tab," she slurred, temper rising again. "You fffuckig- I'm not scare'ayoo!" She tried to push herself up in the chair, taking a clumsy swing at Angela. "Tryinna'act like-" Her words caught in her throat. "-like fuckig-" She began to retch and Angela jolted into action, half-escorting, half-dragging her into the bathroom. Storming inside Angela flipped the lid up, and Anita obediently took a kneeling position near the toilet, assuming her legs didn't simply give out again. Then, positioning Anita's head over the bowl, she held her hair back, trying to sound as reassuring as she could as the doctor's body detoxified itself.

*****

They waited until Anita was certain she was done, and Angela handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth out before helping her to her feet and bringing her back to the chair. She was calmer, at least, thanks to the exhaustion and fatigue, and for the moment Angela felt confident in leaving her alone briefly to see if she couldn't act on what she researched on the way there.

Anita's medicine cabinet looked like it belonged to someone who both knew, and knew who to ask, on how to get and stay well. Among the store-brand boxes of pills were a bottle of anebrium, partially used, and what looked like a retro kitsch glass flask for a single-dose afflictive tonic. It was for weight gain, and a hefty amount too, but the seal was unbroken and it had expired months ago. She took the anebrium, palming the plastic cup and unscrewing the cap as she filed the tonic away in memory.

Leaving the bathroom she poured Anita a shot of anebrium, offering it to her, and she quickly drank it silently before passing the cup back with a shaky hand. She still looked queasy, Angela thought, but at least she calmed down. One trip into the kitchen later and she passed Anita a glass of water; Anita drank half of it in one go before closing her eyes and leaning her head back in the seat. With no further immediate concerns Angela sat down on the couch, watching her intently as the color in her face gradually returned to normal.

It was nearly fifteen minutes until Anita finally spoke, her voice tired but her diction significantly improved. "I didn't ask for your help."

"You were drunk enough to throw up." A second later she asked, "are you feeling better?"

"Mostly." She rubbed her eyes. "Damn it."

"Did the date really go that badly?"

"What do -you- think?" she snarled.

"I think it's kind of strange that every single one of your dates turned out poorly and your friends couldn't tell how bad they were until you spent time with them."

Her expression softened. "It's not their fault. Some people are just better at hiding who they are until they can get something from someone."

"But all of them?"

"What do you want me to tell you? They were all control freaks, or just wanted trophy relationships, or..." She waved one hand dismissively. "...look, they were all jerks."

"What if they weren't?"

"You're saying -I'm- the problem?"

"I'm saying that you judged them too harshly."

"I can't believe you're-" she scoffed. "You weren't there."

"Okay, but if your friends' judgment is as bad as it is, then why didn't you just tell them you didn't want their help? You're not just doing it to make them happy, right?"

"No, but..." Anita's anger visibly faded.

"So," Angela continued, "if you want to go out with someone, why not make the first move yourself?"

"Why should I?!" she snapped, temper suddenly flaring up again.

"For the same reason you went on those dates."

"If they're interested in me then they can-"

"What if -you're- interested in -them?- Have you ever wanted to be with someone you could..." Angela paused, thinking about the tonic as she searched for the right words. Not too obvious, not too subtle. "...do things with that you both enjoyed?"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"It looks like you're trying to make yourself miserable."

"Y-" She went to stand, making it only halfway before she fell back into the seat, wincing and holding her temple with one hand. "I don't have to explain myself."

Angela lapsed into silence, thinking for a few moments before speaking again. "So that's it."

"What is?"

"You're afraid."

Anita's mouth hung open in stunned, outraged silence before she screamed. "HOW -DARE- Y- ow!" Clutching her head, she bit back a curse as she glared at Angela.

"You're afraid of being hurt, right?" she asked, standing. "Which is why you don't want to approach anyone else: Because they might say 'no.'" She studied Anita for a few seconds, noting the growing deep blush, the receding indignation, and how her gaze shifted away from her more and more. "Which is why you push others away."

"You don't know anything about me," Anita said quietly, eyes averted.

"Are you saying I'm wrong?" She approached her, planting one hand on the back of the chair next to Anita's head and leaning in until she was inches from her face. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me that. You even did it when we first met, remember?"

Her eyes flitted up to meet hers briefly. "You can't say this to me."

"Then look me in the eyes," Angela said slowly, "and tell me I'm wrong." Silence reigned for a long while as Angela studied her and, not getting a response, she stood and took a step back. "It may not have been much, but I meant every word. You're probably one of the smartest people I've met to have a job like you do, and... and you deserve to be happy, not forcing yourself to do things you hate or lying to yourself that things are better this way." She scratched the back of her neck. "It feels strange saying this since we're the same age, but you're still young. You deserve to..." She gestured. "...enjoy yourself. Even if someone hurts you, it's not going to hurt forever."

After a few seconds Anita gave a small, quiet nod. "Yeah. Yeah." She glanced at the bottle of anebrium, looking up at Angela. "You saw, didn't you." She made a light gesture towards the bathroom. "In the cabinet."

An inkling of a plan formed in her mind; she would figure out the details later, she thought. "If someone showed up at your door with something you really wanted," she began, "and let you do whatever, would you take them up on it?" A beat later she added, "because they trust you, I mean."

"...I might."

Angela nodded, giving Anita a once over. She looked tired, but better than she did before. "Are you going to be okay by yourself?"

"I can handle a hangover."

She nodded, turning and walking towards the door. As she rested her hand on the knob she heard Anita again. "Angela."

Angela stopped. "Yes?"

"Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

Anita didn't see Angela the following day, or the next. Part of her expected to see her walk into the medical center but she reminded herself that no, it would never happen. What a hypocrite, Anita thought. Telling -her- that she was afraid of being hurt by others, then turning around and making empty promises, and for what? Just to make her feel like a better person? She couldn't believe she nearly fell for it, and that she actually thought that Angela was somehow different than everyone else.

She was so caught up in her indignation that when Angela appeared at her doorstep that afternoon her first instinct was to chew her out for not appearing. Her clothing wasn't anything out of the ordinary for her, but she carried with her two two small boxes under the brand name of "Chubby Checkers," the packaging displaying green and yellow checkerboard cookies.

"I was on patrol yesterday and today," Angela said apologetically. She held up the boxes, adding, "there was enough time to buy these, though. They have the same effect as the tonic you had."

Anita cautiously stared at her for a moment, expecting some sort of trick but getting none. Glancing furtively behind Angela, she opened the door, giving her a quiet "come in."

As Angela entered she asked, "where would you like me to sit?" She smiled. "Your bedroom?"

"No!" she blurted out, a little too quickly for her own tastes. "No. Just-" She made a dismissive gesture encompassing the room. "-just in here is fine."

"Alright." She lowered herself to the floor, sitting cross-legged as she put the boxes in front of her. "There's plenty of room here, and your bed might not be able to handle the weight."

The words "plenty of room" and "weight" stuck in Anita's mind, and she felt a brief, anxious tightness in her chest at the implications as she sat in front of her. Angela had already gone so far out of her way, but no, this was still too easy. She would pull back at the last second, taking delight in leading Anita along. It was something she was so absolutely sure of that she felt it even as Angela tore open the package and plastic inside, only beginning to let it go when the pilot had eaten the first cookie.

A moment later Angela lifted up the hem of her hoodie and shirt, revealing the folds of an obvious belly that wasn't there when she saw her with the pilot suit on, and it was then that Anita realized that she genuinely -meant- what she was doing. "See?" Angela said. "A little bit of it went to my thighs too, but that's not as easy to tell. Not yet, anyway."

Anita's gaze went between Angela's exposed midriff and the still quite full package of cookies as she nervously ran the tip of her thumb across her fingers. Her hand then went directly to Angela's midriff as Angela, still smiling, took her by the wrist and pressed it against her. Her skin was soft and warm, and Anita felt her cheeks heat up as she played with it - her - gently kneading the layers of fat. Then, as Angela ate another cookie, she felt as it swelled beneath her fingertips to a more pronounced paunch with a deep navel between its folds.

Angela didn't appear to mind the soft probing, and she gave the back of Anita's hand a soft pat as she let go, giving a light gesture with her finger to encourage her to do as she pleased with her other hand. Anita did so as she bit into a third cookie, watching as everything simply grew fatter, wrinkles in fabric beginning to pull smooth. Her hands roamed up Angela's sides, and Angela stifled a laugh as she cupped her breasts, testing their new weight and size, before gliding back down across her thighs. She scooted forward, sliding her hands beneath Angela's skirt and giving her rear end a gentle squeeze, feeling the newfound layers of padding.

"Should I keep going?" Angela asked.

Anita's moved back onto her haunches, trying her best to look aloof. "Are you trying to back out?"

"No," she answered, uncrossing her legs, "I just want to know if you want me to."

She stared, mouth opening wordlessly for a second before composing herself. "Yes." Putting on a commanding air she pointed to the box. "All of it."

"All of it?" She smiled as she picked up the box, her face notably rounder. "Okay."

One by one the contents of the package disappeared, Angela eating at a casual pace as Anita's facade all but faded. Her pantyhose began to run, then tear, exposing swaths of flabby legs and two round ass cheeks that were, inch by inch, lifting her off the floor. The muffin top around the hem of her skirt grew more pronounced as the pounds were packed onto her midsection, her belly spilling out onto her lap. Above it barely audible ripping could be heard from the destruction of her shirt as her breasts grew into, and through, cup sizes beyond any natural growth. Her overstuffed hoodie now served as little more than a glorified crop top, conforming snugly to arms that gradually grew less mobile and, as she at the last cookie, barely to reach her mouth. All the while Anita caressed, poked, and rubbed, fixated on her size and weight and trying not to show it.

The empty package rolled down the slope of a belly which reached out to her knees, coming to a stop in front of Anita. "You gave me the chance to do something I've always wanted to do," she said. She pressed her hands into the sides of her prodigious chest, feeling them sink in as the flesh rose up to her double chin. "But it's better if someone else is around to enjoy it. Right?"

"I guess," she mumbled.

"-Are- you enjoying it?"

The blush returned, along with an attempt at disinterest. "It's fine."

"There's one other box of cookies." She reached one arm towards it for emphasis. "But I can't quite reach. So if you wanted to do anything with it, you could."

"Who says I do?"

"If you wanted," she repeated. "You could do anything."

After a moment Anita sat up straighter, eyes focused directly on Angela's. "Anything."

"Yes. You live alone, right? We've got all day, I can't stop you, and I can keep a secret."

Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly in thought.

"If you trust me."

Anita took the full box, opening the end and removing the plastic bag within. Tugging it open she stood up and climbed onto Angela, not leaning into her belly so much as lying atop it, before pulling out a cookie and holding it to her lips. "Eat."

What followed was a second feeding session, slower than the first as, inwardly, Anita savored seeing and feeling the changes. Soft folds and pillowy breasts grew around and beneath her, lifting her up as Angela's last bits of clothing were slowly ripped apart, exposing the creamy flesh beneath. Her head was held still by the growing rolls around her neck, arms immobilized by their bulk, legs pinned down and covered to her ankles by her stomach, and even her fingers were restrained by their new pudginess. When they began Angela was already too large to stand, much less move; she would have taken up much of Anita's bed. When they were done Angela -was- a bed, every bit of her overflowing with fat, with Anita comfortably resting on top.

After the final snack had taken effect, Angela let out a contented sigh. "I feel so big. Everything is so heavy and dense." Her eyes turned to Anita. "Is this good?"

"Y-yeah," she murmured, looking away.

"It's not so bad, is it? Doing something you're interested in? Being open and unafraid?"

"Well you're- you're just trying to-" A quiet growl rose up from her throat. "I- I could keep feeding you, you know!" she threatened.

"You want to just keep on fattening me up?"

"I could do it. I could leave now and buy two-" She cut herself off. "Ten more packages. I could be back before you returned to normal."

"What then?" Angela tried to gesture, her arms barely even moving. "I can't feed myself."

"I'd feed you." Her blush was practically glowing. "I'd just- I'd feed them to you, every single one."

"Here?"

"Yes." She pointed down to the floor. "Right here."

"I'm already so big I couldn't fit in my cockpit. What would even happen?"

"You'd be stuck here."

"Just this big -mountain- of warm, soft fat, all to yourself?"

By now her entire face was a deep, flustered crimson, and she let out a frustrated whine before burying her face between Angela's breasts. "Stoooooooop iiiiiiiit."

"...and even if you did manage to scare me off, how would I even leave?"


	11. Chapter 11

A banquet and get-together, Angela was told. Hosted by Kendall & Jhun, it was a gathering of its executives and officers, as well as members of Gimhwa Heavy Industries and the Usorcasean government. The intent was to strengthen the rapport between the three groups, as well as to celebrate their ongoing working relationship. While all of the higher-ranking individuals within K&J whose presence was either expected or required were taken care of, there were several open plates remaining and, as one of the pilots, they were offering her an invitation if she was so inclined. Angela didn't have a mind for either business or politics, but when she told her mother about it she put forth a solid argument.

"You're getting a meal worth hundreds of denari for free."

It wasn't free, not technically, as she still needed a dress and the one she wore to the debutante ball no longer fit. Still, it was simple enough to solve with a trip to one of the higher-end stores Angela never had a reason to visit, and her mother was more than willing to accompany her to provide a second opinion as well as to spend time with her. Angela finally settled on a baby blue gown, and a pilot's salary more than covered it. The time was also spent catching up on what happened in person, and before she returned to the base her mother advised her that if anyone asked how she got the job, she should leave out the part where she learned her talents from video games.

"I'm not going to lie to people," Angela retorted.

"I'm not asking you to lie," her mother replied. "Just don't say it."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Well," she said, "do you think I'm lying to you when I don't tell you what I've been doing when you've been out?"

It took a few seconds before the thought clicked, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Eww, mom."

*****

The banquet was lavish, taking place in an expensive hotel filled with directors, officers, chief engineers, and elected officials, and Angela was absolutely, positively out of her element. She did meet a Gimhwa employee who worked on the UC series and was gracious for her enthusiasm about them, sharing stories about their development, but after they parted she was left alone again in a building full of people she didn't recognize, having conversations about things that only involved her in the sense that it would be passed down across several hands.

As she entered one room she spotted Anita, who was listening to a young gentleman speak with feigned interest. Her eyes wandered, and as she spotted Angela she waited until he was distracted before beckoning her over with a subtle gesture of her head. When she neared Anita looked over at her again, making it more obvious this time as she broadly smiled. "Miss Daihono," she exclaimed, "it's good to see you!" Turning back to the man she said, "excuse me, I need to catch up on a few things with my friend here," hooking one arm around Angela's and walking away before he could respond.

When they were a few paces away Angela asked, "what's wrong?"

"He wouldn't shut up about daddy's money," she said quietly.

"Oh-"

"It -was- him," she added. "I'm not-" She cut herself short, sighing. "I'm not."

"So you decided to take your chances with me?" she asked with a smile.

Anita blushed. "Well," she muttered, "I could do worse."

She lead Angela to the balcony, opening out onto the street below and a small park just beyond. The sun had since set, the buildings and paths illuminated in various hues of light, and Anita looked out upon it as Angela leaned on the railing beside her. It was open, but still felt private despite the room behind them filled with people and conversation, and they stood there in silence with each other.

Angela wasn't sure how long they were there, but it was long enough that she was surprised when someone rested their elbows on the railing beside her, drink in hand. It was Robert, of all people, probably given the same offer that she was. He was dressed in a tuxedo, but had either left his jacket elsewhere or didn't wear one - both were equally likely. She was grateful to see another friendly face, up until the point where she remembered her relationship with the people on either side of her and realized that she might have a problem on her hands. Granted, she thought, being between them didn't sound like a bad idea, but not in the current context.

Fortunately neither of them appeared to have more than a passing familiarity with each other, and when one of them finally spoke it was Robert, his voice distance. "You wonder what we're doin' here?"

"Um." Angela glanced over at Anita, then back at him. "Did you mean if the gods have a plan for us? A..." She drummed her fingers on the railing. "What do you call those questions?"

"Ontological," Anita replied.

"I meant what we're doin' -here-," Robert clarified, "at this party. Have either of you seen anyone you recognized?"

"I saw the Commander downstairs," Angela said.

"A few," Anita added, "from the news."

"Lotta people here deal with things beyond our pay grade," he said, taking a sip.

"I'm only here because it was a free meal," Angela confessed.

"Lucky you," Anita said. "Most of the staff with rank had to attend." A server approached them, carrying a tray with glasses of red wine. "Myself included." Reaching back Anita took one off the tray before resting on the railing again. Angela looked over and did a double-take, plucking it from Angela's hand and passing it over to Robert, who took it in silence, drinking most of its contents in one go before passing it back, Angela giving it to Anita in turn. Anita frowned, but said nothing.

"Most of the people here are old enough to be our parents," Robert continued, "talkin' about things -I- don't get, at least, and we're just -here-. This feels like..."

It took a few seconds for Angela to catch on; by that time Anita had already responded. "...like when we were kids and our parents took us to weddings or family gatherings."

"Exactly," he said.

Angela nodded. "But we're not..." She trailed off, suddenly unsure of what she was saying. "We're not kids, right? We're in our twenties."

"The brain doesn't stop maturing until it's twenty-five," Anita said, "so in a way we are. The concept of 'adulthood' is arbitrary; there's no biological transitional event like with butterflies or moths."

"Not biological, no," said Robert. "But I had my comin'-of-age ceremony when I turned seventeen."

"Did anything change?"

He thought for a second. "Not really. My parents and relatives treated me differently, but only when they remembered to."

"When you turn eighteen," Angela began, "people expect you to take on more responsibilities and act differently, but nobody tells you how." She rested her head on the railing. "Is this what being an adult is like?"

"So who taught them?" Robert asked, jerking a thumb behind him.

"No one," Anita said simply.

Angela looked at her oddly. "So people just pretend to act like what they think adults should act like, based on what adults acted like when they were kids?"

Robert shrugged. "Fake it 'til you make it."

"...and you two are responsible for protecting Kuneywa," Anita deadpanned.

"Yeah, and you're the one keepin' us alive." He lapsed into silence for a few seconds before raising his glass. "A toast. Here's to a bunch of confused adults."

Anita shrugged and held her glass out to Robert, and they clinked them together in front of Angela before taking a sip. Angela beckoned to him with a finger, and he passed it to her, where she followed suit only to sputter and cough as the drink hit her tongue. "Is this -shochu?!-"

He grinned. "Not a fan of adult drinks?"

"Don't you dare."


	12. Chapter 12

Retinal movement, diminished reflex response, prolonged sighting and firing times when targeting the chimera... nothing about it put her or anyone else in direct peril, but to Charlotte it all spoke of a distraction on Angela's mind. Not wanting to exacerbate the problem, she corroborated with regional scanning systems, waiting until the area was clear before bringing it up.

"Your thoughts are elsewhere," she stated.

"What?" It took a second for it to register with Angela. "Oh. Yeah." She looked at the radar; noting it was clear, she took her hands off the controls, leaning back in her seat. "I've been thinking about a problem these past few days."

Charlotte silently muted the outgoing communications for the sake of Angela's privacy. "What is it?"

"There's two people I'm interested in."

"Interested how?"

"In a lot of ways. I'm not sure how to explain."

"Is one of them sexually?"

She wasn't prepared for such a blunt question. "Yes."

"One of them is Robert, isn't it."

"Yes, and the other is... do you know Anita Schweitzer? She's one of the doctors. Short, smart, brown hair, curvy."

"I'm not familiar with her. Is she nice?"

Angela hesitated. "No, but she's working on it. They were both at the party the night before, and I didn't realize that I had a problem until we were all together."

"Did either of them say anything?" Charlotte asked. "To you or each other?"

"No, and if they did at the time I didn't know how to respond. I still don't."

"Is it a question of who you find yourself more attracted to?"

"Sort of, but there's more to it." She crossed her arms, thinking. "Robert is more forward and casual, and I feel like I can talk -to- him instead of -up to- him. But Anita... she doesn't normally get close to people, but seeing her open up to me feels like it's a connection that only we have. That she's changed because she wants to change."

There was a moment of silence as Charlotte thought. "It sounds as if you like them for different reasons."

"I do, I guess."

"One has traits and features the other lacks or cannot provide, correct?"

"That's a strange way of putting it, but I guess?"

"Then," Charlotte continued, "why are you forcing yourself to make a decision between two choices that are neither mutually exclusive nor competing directly with each other, if at all?"

"Well, I..." She blinked. "...huh."

"Unless I'm misunderstanding something."

"I don't -think- you are," Angela replied. "It's just that I never would've thought of it in that way." Her attention was drawn to the map on the heads-up display as a new waypoint pulsed to life. Taking up the controls again she eased the GR into motion. "I'll think about what you said later on. Thanks."

*****

Some time later at arriving at the waypoint the radio came to life again, this time with the voice of Hyun-Jae. "Hi, Angela. It's Hyun-Jae. How are things out there?"

"Slow," she replied. "There was a chimera pretty far out, but it didn't even realize we were there."

"I'm not distracting you, am I?"

"Not at all. The next closest chimera is a couple dozen miles off, and it's just been wandering in circles for hours."

"Poor thing," she said quietly. "Um, play anything good recently?"

"I finally got that one-credit clear of Alien Vendetta yesterday."

"Congratulations. Any plans to run it in a marathon or anything like that?"

"No," Angela said, shaking her head. "The ending's just not fun enough to make me want to try and do it consistently. Plus I'm not sure I could find the time. A lot of them run at odd hours."

"Oh, that reminds me. I've been playing Love in Digital Time."

"Is it a...?"

"It's a visual novel."

"How is it?"

"It's terrible!" Hyun-Jae exclaimed.

Angela laughed. "Is it the art, or...?"

"The art is fine, but the writing is so -BAD!- All the characters go off on these long tangents about whatever the author was upset about when they made the game, and it's so out of character. Everyone talks like they're on social media all day-"

"Really condescending and short-tempered?"

"Yeah! And the guy you're expected to go for first is a mass murderer and you're supposed to be okay with it because the people he killed were part of some group the author didn't like, even though they were completely innocent."

"It sound like the developer was..." She drummed her fingers on one of the control sticks. "What's that called? Writing through your issues?"

"Catharsis?" Charlotte offered.

"Both, probably," Hyun-Jae said. "She has a -lot- of issues."

"Is it a game or a lecture?"

"I really want to say it's a game, but hearing the developer talk about it they did something original because it doesn't play like a normal dating sim. 'Oh, I made it the way I did because -real- relationships aren't like that.' Well no kidding!"

"'Hang on, I said something dumb to my date, let me load my old save.'"

She laughed. "I know, right? The worst part is that they took porn -out- of it in a later version."

"What? Why?"

"Because people didn't like it."

"People didn't like porn in a porn game?"

"I don't know who her target audience is supposed to be." After a pause she added, "but this is nice."

"What is?" Angela asked.

"This. Being able to talk about stuff."

"I like listening to people who are passionate about the things they enjoy."

There was a sudden, distinct silence that Angela recognized as the communications link being muted. It returned some seconds later, with Hyun-Jae sounding more nervous. "It's not- ...but-" She took a deep breath. "It's only a porn game."

"It's writing, it's a story. You must've read enough or played enough games to understand what makes a story good or bad."

"Well, you're not wrong..." There were a few seconds of silence before she spoke again. "Oh, right. Um... this is kind of a personal question, but do you have a type?"

"A type?" Angela repeated.

"You, you know, physically. Like, looks or figure."

She thought for a moment. "Not really, no. I like all kinds. Why?"

"No reason. Um, I'm getting looks, so I gotta go. It's been good talking to you."

"I'll see you when I get back to the hangar, Hyun-Jae."

"Thanks, you t- sure! Sure!"


	13. Chapter 13

When Angela was told that her GR was having work done on it and that she would be off-duty for a few days, her first thought was of Charlotte's well-being. With no other obligations, she headed to the hangar out of equal parts curiosity and concern, finding her intact. Hyun-Jae was present, albeit a bit flustered by Angela's presence, and took a few tries before finally stating that the GR was undergoing a data transfer and OS update, it was nothing out of the ordinary, and Charlotte would be fine. Another engineer nearby corroborated what Hyun-Jae said, and with her concerns allayed, she wished them well and left.

The skies over Kuneywa were overcast and heavy with clouds in a way that she rarely saw, the threat of a storm too foreboding for her to head into the city. Meanwhile, the arcade was far too populated, several soldiers and crew having connected their consoles and flat-screen monitors for a series of local multiplayer matches. She stood there for a while, trying to make sense of what was going on before mentally dismissing the whole thing and leaving.

From there she wasn't sure what to do, taking a slow path back towards her apartment, but on her way she encountered Senri in uniform quite literally walking out from a corner a few feet in front of her. She froze, but her presence was enough to startle him as he visibly flinched, wide-eyed, hand going for his coilgun before stopping himself. He averted his eyes, looking briefly ashamed before returning to his normal somberness. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know you were there."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Is it okay if I walk with you when you're on patrol?"

"You don't-" He hesitated. "If you want to, then I'm alright with it."

Angela nodded, following by his side as he continued on his path around the base. It took a moment for her to notice, but Senri seemed more distant and distracted, becoming fully evident to her when he realized she had asked him a question but didn't seem to hear the first time. Senri didn't even say anything; his gaze merely drifted over to her, looking at her questioningly.

"I asked if there was going to be another season of that show we were watching," she said.

"The war unofficially ended with the Treaty of Seluca," he replied, "so the show was planned to end with the armistice. The producers managed to convince the writers to continue on to the official founding of the First Republic, so there's a half-season to cover what happened after that."

"I see." A thought came to her, and she recalled what she knew of the world. "But isn't it the -Second- Republic of Kaldea?"

He nodded. "The old royal family was banished, but former king's son escaped, and there were people still sympathetic to them after-"

The skies rumbled loudly before there was a crack of thunder directly overhead. Angela flinched as she came to a halt, looking up as another crack rolled across the skies. "Wow, I think I heard a few windows rattle from that." Realizing that Senri had stopped she looked back, only to find him standing stock still, head slightly bowed, with a hollow, faraway look in his eyes. He had a white-knuckled grip on the strap of his rifle, one hand trembling, and as there was another peal of thunder she saw him visibly flinch. "Senri?" Worry welled up in her chest, and she hurriedly approached him, making a move to grab him by the arm before thinking better of it and simply moving to meet his gaze. "Senri, talk to me. You're-" His eyes twitched, following movement at some point beyond - or through her. Thoughts of what to do raced through her mind, with no clear answer. "It's going to start coming down hard in a few minutes. We can't stand outside."

Senri visibly snapped back to reality as his grip on the strap loosened, lips parted and mouth agape as he found himself staring at Angela. "It's not..." His head snapped in either direction. "It's not Kayabe. I'm not in Kayabe."

"You're in Kuneywa. You're safe." She pointed to a nearby building. "We can wait in there until the storm passes." After a second of thought she asked, "you can walk, right? You're okay to walk?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, then with more confidence. "Yes. Yes." He tentatively extended his hand towards hers; she met him halfway, allowing her to lead him up the path to the administrative building.

*****

The quietest part of the building turned out to be the second basement, just outside records storage and insulated from the surface by reinforced concrete. The air was cool and dry, the lighting sparser than in the offices and meeting rooms above, but at the very least there was a simple padded bench near the stairwell and more than enough privacy for both of them. Angela sat beside Senri, close but giving him room, looking over at him every so often. He looked shaken and consumed by thoughts he'd rather forget; that she could call it an improvement was a sign of how bad things really were. As much as she wanted to say something to fix whatever was wrong, she didn't know -what-, and she wasn't about to tell him things were going to be alright, because it didn't feel like it at all. The only thing she could do is keep him company.

It took several tries for Senri, false starts with long stretches of silence between them, before the words came out. "I was scared." His voice was low and slow. "I should've stayed in Kayabe with my family, but every time I kept seeing it in my head. The Toji Sawara monument, the courtyard..." He held his head up with one hand, his voice beginning to quaver. "They had hostages. We tried to talk to them, but..." Tears formed in his eyes. "They opened fire, we opened fire. It hurts to..." He pressed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "I can still feel it. When the weather's bad, I can still feel it." He bit back a sob. "I couldn't stay, so I ran. I'm not- I don't know why you..."

Angela sat there quietly, listening, before speaking. "You don't deserve this."

"I'm not-"

"You don't deserve this," she repeated. "Can you really say that you want to- that this is the only way to live?" There was a long silence, and she studied his expression. "If..." She paused, forming her words carefully. "I know someone who could help you find someone to talk to. If... if you wanted."

His head slowly turned towards her. "Are you... if you're leaving-"

"It's not that. I'll do what I can," she continued, taking out her smartphone and tapping through menus with her thumb, "but other people are better at this than I am." She raised her phone to her ear. "Anita? I know. This -is- about work." She glanced over at Senri. "I'm with someone." Offering him the phone she said, "here."

With a light, unsteady touch he took it. "Doctor? This is Corporal Senri Saito." He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. "I'm in need of... mental aid."


	14. Chapter 14

Angela was concerned at first when Hyun-Jae asked her to meet her in the break room with regards to Charlotte, but quickly realized that there was no urgency in the message and in any case, hangar break rooms aren't the sorts of places where you give bad news about your co-workers. To say nothing of how Robert was there with Hyun-Jae when she arrived, drinking what was no doubt a heavily doctored cup of coffee and looking somewhat expectant. He nodded to Angela as she entered before turning to Hyun-Jae. "She's here," he said. "Go ahead and tell her."

Hyun-Jae took a deep breath. "Okay. After you- Um, so when- Or, um..."

"You can come in now," he called out. In response to her look he added, "we've worked with her for years. It's not a big deal."

"It's a third-tier's first personal chassis. It is -completely- a big deal."

"First personal-" Angela began. "Charlotte?"

Hyun-Jae stepped aside as the door behind her opened, and she made a stilted presentation gesture as a slim gynoid stepped out. She was an inch or two shorter than Angela, her exterior the color of cream and her joints robotic and almost doll-like in their construction and appearance; from what Angela knew, this had to have been a deliberate choice. Her eyes and hair were both maroon, the latter medium-length and held up with a hairband, short locks hanging down across her forehead. She was dressed in a three-quarter sleeve blouse, vest, kerchief, and pleated skirt in earthy blues and greens that wouldn't have looked out of place in palettes for camouflage. There was a distinct seam around mid-thigh on her legs, beneath which they were black and more angular in shape, ending in distinctly artificial-looking three-toed feet. As she moved her head Angela spotted something that at first she mistook for a small ponytail, but upon further inspection turned out to be a coiled length of cable dangling from the base of her skull.

Angela found herself staring despite herself, and shook it off before hurrying over, taking Charlotte's hands in hers. "Oh wow. You look great!"

"You do," Robert added.

"Thank you," Charlotte replied. "Hyun-Jae helped." Her voice still had the professional, even tone to it, but it sounded cleaner and less digitized, though there were still traces of it.

Hyun-Jae let out a nervous bark of laughter. "Well, I mean- I had two younger sisters growing up, so this is kind of second nature to me. The- the clothing, I mean."

"You did well." She did a slow turn, displaying her outfit for the others. "I wouldn't have known what to look like without your help."

"Tha- um-" She blushed deeply. "You too." Moving past them she stiffly pointed towards the far door. "I have- I have work," she added, slipping quickly from view.

Angela watched her depart before Robert gave her a slight nod, concealing a knowing smile behind another drink. He exited soon after, and she turned back to see Charlotte studying her intently, her expression shifting to a more neutral one. It was unusual, finally having a face to the voice. Or rather, having a different face to the voice than she was used to, which wasn't really a face so much as a mass-produced collection of primary sensors and processing units. "So this is what was happening," she said. "You were transferred and you had to take a few days for..." She gesticulated, searching for the words.

"Kinesthetic acclimation."

"Yes, that. Does this mean that you're not going to be my co-pilot anymore?"

"My position hasn't changed within Kendall & Jhun. I still serve as your co-pilot and support." Charlotte gestured to the coil of cable for emphasis.

"You -are- a two-seater," she murmured. "Or were." After a second of thought her brow furrowed in concern and she asked, "but wouldn't you be in danger if something happened to the cockpit while- ...or maybe not. It's the most protected part of the GR, and anything that happened to... you... would've..." She trailed off. "Is this you-" She pointed to Charlotte. "-or is the GR you?"

"Yes."

Angela blinked.

"Consider the GR to be akin to a limb not in use. Or rather, this is a limb of the GR being used for the first time."

"...and you can attach and remove limbs whenever you want," she slowly replied, "but there's something about -you- that exists separate from them. Like when people afflict themselves and get new limbs."

"Exactly." Charlotte's eyes moved across Angela's face, and a second later she asked, "have you heard of Durendalism, or know anything about synthetic materialism?"

She shook her head. "I don't really know much about philosophy. But, what are you going to do now that you're in a smaller body?"

"It's been years since I've had the opportunity to view Kuneywa from within, and I'd like to see it with you."

The thought that you could live in and protect a place and yet be physically unable to visit it was sobering to Angela, and the idea that Charlotte wanted to be with her while she re-experienced it especially so. Thus she didn't hesitate, taking Charlotte's hand - her fingers slender and almost spindly - and, smiling, escorted out of the break room, her next destination the front gates.

*****

It was an altogether new side of Charlotte that Angela saw, or perhaps a side that was new to her because she had a more expressive body. There was a lack of wasted motion to her movements, and as they walked she glanced down at herself every so often, giving people and objects a wider berth than the other pedestrians. Around certain, more prominent buildings, she would slow her pace, looking up and studying them with what almost appeared to be awe. It seemed at odds with what she knew of her. "Is something wrong?" Angela asked.

"Things are larger than what I'm used to," Charlotte replied.

"Did the acclimation not take?"

"My movement is fine. It's just a matter of getting used to a new body mentally." A few people walked past, and she made a deliberate effort to not step quite as far from them. "I'm accustomed to the risk of causing damage in my environment. Buildings have more give than GRs."

She glanced in the direction of the mall. "Tell me about it."

"I haven't had to deal with AFI in years."

Angela looked at her oddly. "Ay-eff-eye...?"

"'Altered feedback incongruity.' The phenomenon of one's senses and perceptions being suddenly changed along with one's physical form, and with it people treating you radically differently than what you're accustomed to. It's described as something like an inverted Garonne delusion."

She gave her a helpless shake of the head. "I've never heard of the Garonne delusion, but it's basically about being the same mentally, but everyone around you sees you differently, and it's throwing you off?"

"In essence. It's based on interpersonal theory, meant to address radically altered feedback loops."

"Aren't feedback loops bad? Like when you hold a microphone next to a speaker?"

"Not necessarily. It's simply a circuit of cause and effect. You act, the world reacts, and with your next action you react to the world. Behavior and self-identity are constructed and constantly being altered based upon external stimuli."

Angela traced a circle in the air with her finger. "So the circuit was disrupted when you changed bodies?"

"No. When we first met."

*****

Charlotte and Angela were well into the arcade when the owner extracted his head from the interior of a cabinet, watching her with a bewildered expression. "I thought you were in jail."

Angela looked at him oddly. "Why?"

"You stopped showing up after you were lead out by cops." He looked over at the GR cabinet before giving her an apologetic shrug. "The chimera fight messed up the network connection and they launched the 1.4.0 update a few days later. Had to reset everything."

"That's alright, I've been busy with work."

"Well, as long as you're staying safe."

"I am," she replied with a smile. As she looked over at Charlotte, she followed her line of sight to the Mithril Guard 3 cabinet. "That's the one," Angela told her.

"Can you show me?" Charlotte asked.

"Sure, it should still be easy."

That was the idea, at least, but it wasn't true in practice: Angela's hands instinctively went to the console for the start-up sequence, only to find most of it non-functional and only there for display purposes. The lack of information was off-putting and made her feel like she was piloting blind, and the opening animation displaying the start-up and deployment was like going in fast motion. Once it got into the game itself, she could only describe the movement as "janky" and the sound overwhelming. She knew about the behavior of chimeras in games, but it wasn't until now that she realized how obvious it was that they were aware of where the crosshair was, before you had ever fired, in a way that the real thing never was. When the game had ended, neither as quickly nor as cleanly as she remembered, she simply sat back, watching the scoreboard scroll by, reflecting. Nothing in the game had changed, but there was this odd feeling that she had lost or was missing something.

She was stirred out of her thoughts when Charlotte spoke. "Is something wrong?"

"I think I understand what you were talking about," Angela replied. Pointing to the interior she asked, "did you want to try?"

"No, thank you." Charlotte looked at the screen, her expression fading to faint sadness. "It's odd. When you pilot I'm monitoring all your vitals, but seeing you play without them available made me anxious. I was cut off from you; I didn't know what you were feeling." She looked down at her hand, flexing her fingers as she turned it side to side. "I thought that I could be closer to you like this, but it feels as if we're not together the same way we were."

Angela quietly turned in her seat to face her. "We're not, but that's not a bad thing. You're not just stuck in a hangar or the borders of the Wild Zones, and you can meet people outside of Kendall & Jhun staff. Plus you're more expressive. You can -be- more expressive, and even if you can't tell what I'm feeling, people can still react to your expressions better than just a voice in a cockpit. Maybe it isn't that it's..." She paused to formulate her words. "...not like when you're the GR and I'm piloting." Pausing again, she backtracked to make sure what she said made sense before continuing. "Maybe it's another part of the whole that you need to explore. Not just between me and you, but everyone."

Charlotte turned her eyes downward in contemplation before replying. "I'll have to think further about this." Scanning the area she asked, "was there any location nearby you wanted to visit?"

"Not really, but... did you want to see my home?"

*****

It had been a while since Angela had brought someone to her house, and even then they were friends from school and not co-workers, co-pilots, the GR herself, or a combination of the three. As she opened the door she called out to her mother, only to receive no reply. "That's strange," she murmured. "She's usually home at this time." But then, she thought to herself, a lot has changed, hasn't it?

Charlotte entered behind Angela, scanning the room. "It smells nice in here."

She sniffed the air. There was a familiarity to it that she didn't realize was there.

"I thought you would have lived in a smaller house."

"No. Mom's single but she does okay by herself." As an afterthought she added, "she must be meeting someone in person. If that's the case then she's gone until evening."

"Then, may we visit your bedroom?"

It had been a while since she had brought someone to her house for -this- reason, too. Her room was empty of most of her important possessions, and her desk was partly taken over by her mother's work, but fortunately her bed was kept neatly made. For her part Charlotte was much calmer than others, and even as she took her hand and lead her inside there was no sense of awkwardness or anticipation in her eyes, though she hesitated as they neared the bed. "I had been wanting to consummate our relationship for a while, now."

"It probably wasn't easy," Angela said, "with everything you've told me. I had heard stories of 'specialized pilot interface units,' but it sounded like a joke."

"They're real," Charlotte replied. Angela was visibly taken aback. "But not through standard commercial avenues for GRs. It's entirely third-party manufacturers."

"Oh! I suppose companies like Gimhwa and Forjas Tiradentes wouldn't make them, would they? Plus it would be hard to explain why you were buying one to the chief engineers."

"Yes. Though Hyun-Jae was able to assist me in a more discrete way."

As Charlotte lifted her skirt, Angela lowered herself down onto one knee for a better look. The word that came to her mind was "petite"; there were drawings, renders, and the occasional model which had far larger or more exotic, certainly, but Charlotte's was practical and, if Angela was being honest with herself, it didn't look like it would be painful for her at all. Across the pelvic area were thin seams, straight lines and blunt angles marking the module where her synthetic organ was installed, and an outline to show where it retracted into. She looked up at Charlotte as she extended her hand towards her; Charlotte nodded, and Angela touched her fingertips to it. It was warm to the touch, and despite the faint hexagonal pattern the texture was perfectly real. There was no scent or taste as she put her lips around it and took it into her mouth, but as she slowly bobbed her head on it she looked up to see Charlotte watching her, taken aback, confused but not displeased. Pulling it out she asked, "how does it feel?"

"...odd," she finally said. "I hadn't touched it at all during the acclimation process. There was some sensation when testing neural connections, but not like this."

Angela lifted herself up onto the edge of her bed, pushing her sneakers off with her heels. "Did you want to keep going?"

"Yes." The response was even and measured, but spoken almost as soon as it could be without interrupting.

Angela simply smiled, sliding her hands beneath her skirt and hooking her thumbs over the top of her leggings, watching Charlotte study her legs intently as she made a show of slowly removing her clothes. "The pilot suits don't leave anything to the imagination," she said. Leaning back she shimmied the sides of her panties below her hips. "...and I know you watch me every second I'm in the cockpit..." With a wiggle they moved down her thighs, and she let them slide the rest of the way to the floor, kicking them off of her toes. "...but seeing me like this must be new."

Charlotte nodded. "It's different from just an outline. There's more detail, and yet I can't tell what you're feeling."

In response Angela simply cradled Charlotte's head in her hands and pulled her in. Their lips touched once and Charlotte's parted, the gynoid waiting until she began to kiss her deeply to return the gesture in kind. Her movements were hesitant, reactions rather than actions, and Angela had the impression that Charlotte was holding back. After a few moments she broke the kiss, lying back on the bed as she parted her legs. "Don't worry about hurting me," she said softly. "You've always made sure I was safe."

When Charlotte rested her hands on her hips and entered her it was slow to the point of tantalizing agony, her body twitching at the slightest friction. It was enough that, when she drew out, Angela locked her legs around Charlotte's waist to pull her in again, surprise registering in her eyes. Angela's hands trailed down to Charlotte's, and she took them off her hips, fingers knitting together before Angela began lightly pushing and pulling. The gynoid began moving with her, quicker but still steady; there was a dawning look of realization and interest on her face. "This is better. It's good."

"It is," Angela breathed. Face flushed, mouth open and smiling. There was a pleasant warmth in her core that she neither knew or cared if it was one of Charlotte's installed features.

A moment later Charlotte said, almost apologetically, "I haven't done this before."

"It's okay. You get better at it."

She nodded, and they continued on in silence but for Angela's breathing and the quiet creaking of the bed. Nothing had to be said, because to Angela, Charlotte's body spoke volumes: Eyes studying every inch of her, palms pressed to hers feeling her pulse, ears listening intently, and, when her body clenched down on her and tensed up, a moment of understanding. It wasn't any different from what Angela knew about data miners for the games she used to play: Information was one thing, but being able to act on it and seeing the results unfold was completely different.

Some time later, when the scent of sweat had permeated the air, Charlotte spoke up again. "I don't know what to do now."

"Well," Angela panted, "what haven't you used yet?" "Activated" might have been a better choice of words, but her thoughts had been occupied for quite some time.

"There's-" Charlotte briefly froze before trembling, her expression confused and inscrutable. "Is that-" She made a move to pull away, only for Angela to tighten her leglock on her. A second later she felt her twitch inside of her before something warm and thick spilled into her in a series of spurts, the volume beyond anything a person could do unaided. When it finally ended Angela went limp on the bed, recovering and relaxing, as Charlotte slid free. "That was supposed to happen, right?"

Angela nodded wearily. "Yeah." She reached down with a shaky hand; there was enough that it was dribbling out of her onto the sheets.

"Using the entire internal reservoir might have been a mistake."

"It's okay, it... it feels good."

Suddenly the front door slammed shut.


	15. Chapter 15

"You should talk to Hyun-Jae."

As Charlotte told Angela, the cable wasn't for show. She climbed into the cockpit after her, plugged it into an interface in the back of Angela's seat and, during the start-up diagnostics, her voice came through the GR's speakers as usual. Everything ran fine, but her humanoid body was strangely still and had an unsettling emptiness in her eyes. Fortunately Angela didn't have to look at her as she piloted, nor when she docked again and she reactivated, following a brief full-body fit of spasms. It was the first thing she said when assuming control of her humanoid form, spoken as clear advice, and intended to only be heard by the two of them. She could only guess what prompted such a statement, and Charlotte's response to her curious look didn't make things any clearer.

"She has something she needs to tell you."

Whatever it was it didn't seem urgent, as Hyun-Jae was busy helping flush the coolant in Angela's GR when she reached the hangar floor. As Angela approached she smiled and gestured to the machinery before motioning for her to wait and, a few moments later, said something to the other mechanics and engineers before striding over, wiping her hands off on her overalls. "What's up?"

"This is going to sound strange," Angela began, "but Charlotte said you had something you wanted to say to me?" She then watched as, in the span of three seconds, Hyun-Jae went through a half-dozen emotions, ending by blushing furiously and turning away, wide-eyed, with one hand over her mouth as she mumbled something Angela couldn't make out. "Is... is it bad?"

"No," Hyun-Jae squeaked out.

"Are you sure?"

"No." She weakly pointed towards a shallow staircase leading to a heavy door at the the side of the hangar before slinking away, which Angela took as a cue to follow. The service tunnel beyond wasn't well-lit and smelled faintly of chemicals, but it was a good deal quieter than the hangar itself. They stopped some feet away from the door, Hyun-Jae pausing to speak quietly to herself under her breath before finally turning around again, now looking merely nervous rather than utterly flustered. "When you- or, um- Angela- uh." She averted her eyes as she shifted side to side on her heels, finding one of the pipes remarkably interesting before speaking again. "How old were you when you realized you were..." She made a vague "you know" gesture.

"Were what?" After a second of thought her eyes widened. "Oh! I always knew, at least as far as I can remember. Why?"

Hyun-Jae took a deep breath before speaking, only getting as far as "well," before exhaling the rest of it. "It, um... er... I guess it's one of those things that once you realize it, you just..." She gestured. "...look at everything in your past differently. You realize that after a while you weren't projecting anymore, and that those women stopped being a stand-in for you. It wasn't 'on me,' it was 'on her.' Then when..." Her gaze slowly drifted towards the floor. "...then when one of your co-workers asks what she should look like and wants your help designing her, what you think would look good and what you're... you're interested in just blur together. But I never thought of women like that until..." Her eyes turned up towards Angela.

Angela was taken aback. "I wasn't trying to-"

"No!" Hyun-Jae gestured for her to stop. "No, no, you didn't- you didn't do anything wrong. I- to be honest, I don't even think you realize that you're -doing- it, or the effect you have on people sometimes. You..." She struggled for a bit, trying to find the words. "You're not -scared-."

It took a second for Angela to realize what she meant, and several more to figure out how to respond. "It's not that I'm not scared to do something," she began, "it's that I'm scared of what would happen if I didn't."

"But you don't stop. You just go ahead with... everything."

She wanted to explain it; to put into words something that just came naturally to her for years. But she didn't -have- the words, or if she did, she didn't know where to begin short of "I just do," which wasn't an answer at all. So Angela stood there, racking her brain, trying to think of some way that she could put it that -she- could understand so she could explain it to Hyun-Jae in turn. She owed her that much, at least, considering that she... seduced her? Was that even the right word? She do anything out of the ordinary, Angela didn't think. Just talking about GRs or video games and-

Wait a second, she thought. "You've- have you played Heirs of Embers?"

Hyun-Jae looked as surprised at the question as Angela was for thinking of it. "Some. I bought the second game, and I've just gotten to the abbey."

"It's like that. People start playing it and they hear about how hard it is, so they're cautious."

"Well, yeah. You can die in three hits to basically everything."

"But they're -too- cautious. They're afraid of everything and tire themselves out keeping their defenses up, and when they die doing something they get upset because they lost." Angela hadn't played herself, but she spoke with enough people trying to speed run it that she knew a lot about it second-hand. "But failure doesn't really -hurt- you as bad as people think. If something went wrong you can figure out what it was, and after a while you know what works and what doesn't. You learn how to move around and you don't have to be on the defensive all the time because you know you can't be hurt or, if you are, it's easy to recover from it." Judging from her reaction, Hyun-Jae seemed to understand, and Angela continued. "Nobody's -born- good at it, and there's people who find it easier, but but dealing with people is something you can learn if you're willing to and aren't afraid of failing."

Hyun-Jae slowly nodded to herself, looking down at the floor, with only the muted sounds of machinery from the hangar beyond breaking the silence. After a while she let out a short, quiet laugh. "We need a new hobby." She shifted her feet, facing Angela again. "But... thanks. This is kind of new to me." A thought visibly crossed her mind and she went to speak, only to close her mouth again and look away, blushing.

"What is it?" Angela asked.

"Um. After... after my shift is over, I'm free, so if you wanted to..." She gestured. "...come over and talk some more, you can. I don't know how to-" Her blush deepened. "But-"

"Hyun-Jae," she said, holding up her hands. "It's alright. Just take a minute to think about what you want to say."

She nodded, taking the time calm herself before speaking again, her words sounding far more confident. "If you wanted to do more than just talk, then we can. Because I... I do."

*****

Compared to what she looked like at work, Hyun-Jae's appearance when Angela visited her apartment was strikingly different. Her braid was undone, leaving her hair to cascade onto her shoulders and down her back in a long, wavy mess which, when combined with the lighter frames of her casual glasses, made her look... still in line with what Angela knew about her, actually, just in a different way. Though the baggy shirt and boxers revealed a soft yet muscled figure that was normally buried beneath a sweatshirt and overalls; she didn't realize Angela had noticed until she was well inside, at which point she seemed to shrink down on herself.

"But haven't you seen me with my pilot suit on?" Angela asked. "That's more exposed than you are right now."

Hyun-Jae relaxed a bit upon hearing that. "I guess so."

"I didn't think you would look so strong, though. But you -do- do a lot of heavy lifting."

"Some." A beat. "A, a lot." In an effort to change the subject she said, "so, um. Did- did you want to see my bedroom?"

She nodded. "Alright."

Hyun-Jae lead her towards a far door, pushing it open with her back and revealing a room that was generally neat and most likely cleaned in haste. Set all around were paraphernalia of her job and interests: Magazines on GRs, several volumes of graphic novels that Angela didn't recognize but could tell near-instantly what they were about, and figurines from several games that Hyun-Jae had mentioned. Off to one side was her computer, the monitor and speakers at least second-hand, and a row of framed pictures tipped face-down onto the desk.

As she stepped through Angela took her by one hand and and lead her the rest of the way towards the bed. "So what do you want to do? 'More than just talk,' right?"

"Yeah, but it..." She fidgeted. "It's kind of hard to say."

Angela let go of her hand. "Is it more than 'more than just talking?'"

"Sort of. It's..." Averting her eyes she cupped two hands in front of her chest before moving them outward.

"That's normal," she said reassuringly.

Hyun-Jae visibly relaxed. "Normal. Sure."

She gestured to the computer. "You had to have seen how much of it there is, right?"

"I wasn't- ...well, -now-, sure. But I wasn't looking for it at first."

"Have you tried it before?"

"Yes." There was less hesitation in her voice. "I buy afflictive pills every so often."

"Can I see them?"

She headed for the dresser, pulling open the top drawer and fishing out a bottle of pills before offering it to Angela. The brand - Chivebear - was familiar to her in passing, and the product promised "safe, steady expansion" with "easy-to-manage dosages." The latter meant that the pills' effects stacked; more for bigger. "How many do you normally take?" Angela asked.

"One. Sometimes two." After a second she added, "I've wanted to try more, but I've been... putting it off."

She turned the bottle in her hand. "How about this?" she asked. "I'll take as many as you want me to take, but you need to take twice that."

Hyun-Jae's tensed up, hands going to her chest as she stood bolt upright. At first Angela thought she had been offended into silence, but she didn't look angry so much as flustered and conflicted. "So it- when-" She pointed between herself and Angela. "You'll just let me tell you how big I want you? And I just...?"

"It was only a suggestion," she said apologetically. "If you're not comfortable with it you can-"

"Two!" Her mouth moved to speak before she had formulated her next sentence, and it took a moment for her words to catch up. "For, for you."

"So you're alright with taking four." Hyun-Jae nodded with restrained eagerness. "You're probably going to be too big to move."

Her eyes seemed to light up at the phrase "too big to move." "That's fine."

Angela took a seat on the edge of the bed, Hyun-Jae following suit. Setting down the bottle of pills she took the hem of her hoodie and pulled it off. She followed it up by removing her shirt, Hyun-Jae showing more discomfort at her lack of underwear than her. The mechanic looked away, finding the wall opposite her positively fascinating, at least until she heard an "aahhh" and turned to see Angela, open-mouthed and smiling, with four pills perched on the end of her extended tongue. In what was her least deliberated and most straightforward act of the evening thus far, Hyun-Jae lunged with a ferocity that Angela didn't think she was capable of. Her tongue probed her mouth as she removed the pills, gulping them down before sitting back, still looking nervous but with a hint of self-satisfaction. In response Angela simply swallowed the two she had palmed, turning and going up onto the bed on all fours. "You better pick a good place to lie down," Angela said.

Hyun-Jae nodded, scooting backwards across the bed as Angela crawled after her. Straddling her legs she crept up Hyun-Jae's body, hooking both thumbs into the base of her shirt and pulling it up as she did, pushing it over the top of her breasts. One of Hyun-Jae's hands drifted in towards them to cover herself up, almost reflexively, but Angela took her by the wrist, gently pinning one arm to the bed as she carefully removed her glasses and set them aside. Supporting herself with the other she lowered herself down, kissing Hyun-Jae as their breasts pressed against each other.

The pills' effects were already making themselves known as the two young women grew into each other. There was a warmth both from within and without, and Hyun-Jae could feel herself growing heavier both against herself and against Angela, a mounting weight touching more of the pilot's own body. When the kiss finally broke it was because they were simply pushed apart, and not because of a conscious effort on either of their parts.

Dazed, Hyun-Jae looked at Angela as she straightened up, her view half-blocked by two sets of breasts which were nearing the size of their heads. "Wow," she murmured. She reached out, taking as much of Angela's chest as she could in her hands, soft flesh gradually spilling across her spread fingers.

"Have you thought of going bigger normally?" Angela asked. "You have the figure for it."

Her skin was flushed with arousal, but her cheeks took on the redness of embarrassment once again as she pressed her elbows inward in a futile attempt to cover up what couldn't be covered. "Don't say that."

Angela knit her fingers together with Hyun-Jae's, moving her hands from Angela's breasts to her own. The pilot's growth was tapering off, leaving her with endowments like basketballs but far softer, sagging gently under their own weight and bumping and brushing against her arms as she moved. The mechanic's, on the other hand, was still going strong, slipping over the sides of her body and pinning her down. "Just imagine walking around with these inside of your overalls. It would be a good look," she added, moving her legs to one side of hers.

"I've thought about it. Maybe too much." Out of sight she felt Angela's hand slide down her abs, and she trembled at her touch, but once it slid beneath the waistband of her boxers she clamped her legs shut. "Um! I- I!"

Angela drew her hand back. "Sorry."

"Can, can we- I mean, I'm not really ready for that. How about..." She tried to gesture with the still-swelling masses on her frame in her arms, only managing to make them shake a bit. "...up here more?"

In response Angela moved a bit, head to one side. Despite her own size, one of Hyun-Jae's breasts was big enough to support both of hers, nipples large enough that she could easily get two fingers and a thumb around them. "You just want me to play with them?"

"I'm not, I'm- if-..." From between her cleavage she saw Angela smile and give her a gentle, calming gesture, and she took a second to collect her thoughts. "The whole 'being with another woman' thing is new to me, and that's... too much off the bat."

She nodded. "I understand." She took the top one of Hyun-Jae's breasts in her hand. "But you know, some girls can come just from having their breasts massaged, and it gets a -lot- easier when afflicted."

"That's just an old wives' t-" Hyun-Jae's words were cut short by a breathy gasp as Angela's lips, warm and wet, engulfed her, suckling on one nipple as her free hand rubbed and gently pulled on the other.

It was not an old wives' tale.


	16. Chapter 16

Hyun-Jae was practically glowing, moving about with a barely-restrained giddiness that had to have been obvious to at least a few of the other mechanics but was absolutely so to Charlotte. She would know to look for a change in behavior, after all; she was the one who set the path leading to that change in motion. "Did things go well?" Charlotte asked.

As she logged out of the console she made a sound somewhere between a nervous laugh and a satisfied sigh. "Sort of, yes. I, um..." Hyun-Jae turned to Charlotte. "Thank you. But-" She looked away, pausing to put her thoughts in order. "But you had to have had some idea that Angela would have...?" She gesticulated.

"That she would have taken you up on any offers you made? Yes. Did you not want her to?"

"No, but weren't you interested in her as well? I know you wanted to do something with her, but to give her away like that..."

"Hyun-Jae," Charlotte began, "do you believe that my relationship with Angela is the same as yours? That what she is to you, and the ways which she connects with you, are the same as with me? You speak intimately of things with her that I don't understand, shared experiences that I never participated in. You connect with her in ways I never could, and that connection was formed differently from her and I."

Hyun-Jae brushed her braid aside, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well, when you say it like that, yeah, it sounds different. But we're both..."

"Pursuing her in a sexual sense," Charlotte finished.

"Not really 'pursuing.' I think we've both caught her."

"Just the same. We mean different things to her, and her to us. Because of that, the physical connections we make will hold different meanings. In a very real sense, there is no conflict, because neither of us can occupy the same niche."

"'Physical connections' is a funny way of putting it," she remarked, "but I think I understand what you mean. Just... could you give me some time to think about it a little?"

Charlotte nodded. "Of course." Gesturing to the GR she added, "I leave myself in your hands."

*****

Despite being far more mobile, Charlotte hadn't explored the base as fully as she could have. She remembered parts of the general layout, but at a distance, which translated poorly following such a drastic change in perspective. Signs, at least, pointed her in a general direction, and sidewalks did the rest. As she walked, however, another figure drew closer from the direction of the apartments: Ashy in hues and sharklike in appearance, with a clean, short haircut that suggested a position among the ground soldiers. He wore an open flannel shirt over casual clothes, and Charlotte was suddenly aware that the days were getting cooler. He looked her over questioningly as they merged onto the same path, and in response she said, "I am the support for a GR pilot. This is a newer body."

After a second of thought he asked, "Charlotte?" She nodded, and he continued. "I'm Corporal Senri Saito. Liu- ...Angela has spoken of you." He glanced down the path towards the medical center, concern distinct in his voice. "Has something happened to her?"

"No, she is well."

Senri nodded to himself, satisfied with the answer, and they fell into silence. Some distance later the path in front of the medical center split, and he gave her a polite, quiet "keep her safe," before breaking away, heading for a different entrance as Charlotte continued on towards the main door.

The receptionist was naturally courteous to Charlotte as she entered and approached the desk, and apologetic when she told her that she would have to wait until Doctor Schweitzer had a free moment. The doctor, meanwhile, was short in several ways when she arrived perhaps ten minutes later, tablet in hand. "Can I help you?" she asked coldly.

"My name is Charlotte. I'm here to speak to you about-"

"I know," Anita interrupted, glancing at the receptionist, "what you're here for." She turned. "We'll speak in my office."

"Shall I tell your next appointment there could be a delay?" the receptionist asked.

"That's not necessary. We won't be long."

The walk to her office, at least, wasn't long, and her terseness didn't preclude being polite enough to hold the door open for Charlotte, if only to close it behind her like a trap door. "This is about Angela, isn't it."

"Yes. What is it that you believe I am here for?"

"You're here because of -you-, and who knows who else. You think I'm blind? I knew the type of person she was from the moment we met." She sighed, and her expression softened. "At least I thought I did." She looked up at Charlotte. "I asked her, you know. Point blank. 'Are you seeing other people?' There was something about how she acted around that other pilot that made me suspicious."

"How did she reply?"

"She said 'yes.' She didn't even hesitate." Anita folded her arms, holding her tablet to her chest as she turned and stared off into space. "At first I was furious; I thought that she was like the others after all, just using me. Every single time she went out of her way for me, all the things she said, and for what?" She gave a slow, barely perceptible shake of her head. "I was ready to tell her to leave and never come back."

Anita closed her eyes, and there was a long silence before she spoke again.

"But. She didn't act like -they- did. She went just far enough that I would have to take the final step to reach her, and it was never about stringing me along or trying to control me. It was about what I -could- be. She never lied, and she wanted me to stop lying, too. If you had to put a word to it, yes, I love her. And..." She took a deep breath. "...and if I have to share her, then I'll pay that price. Angela hasn't done anything to hurt me, but a small part of me still wants to say 'yet.' That it's all an act; that she's no different. Part of me that's still..." She turned her head, looking at Charlotte as if she had just noticed her before her expression hardened. Taking her tablet in one hand again, she waved the other dismissively. "Look, if you're going back to Angela, just tell her whatever."

Charlotte nodded, resting her hand on the handle only to pause. "If she was truly that kind of person," she said quietly, "I wouldn't want to be around her either."

Another thought came to mind, but Anita said it before she could. "None of us would."

*****

As Charlotte returned to the hangar, she came across Robert just as he was leaving. As they neared each other he stopped in his tracks, pointing to her. "Charlotte!" he exclaimed. "Quick question."

"Yes?"

"You fuckin' Angela?"

"Yes."

He looked surprised, though at the suddenness of the response or the response itself she couldn't say. "Okay."

"Why?"

Robert shrugged. "Eh, kinda figured. Didn't really think it was gonna be an exclusive thing for either of us... and it isn't. For either of us. But at least she's in good hands." He grinned. "You really are dedicated to the well-being of your pilot, huh?"

She considered his words for a moment before nodding. "Yes. I suppose that's one way of putting it."


	17. Ex Machina v Terra Nova: Fat Girls and Giant Robots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A facetious, non-canon crossover shout-out to the artist Jeetdoh, connoisseur of fat girls and giant robots. No, really; he's described himself as such.

No sooner did the elevator doors open than Kathy strode through, phone in hand. "We've got a situation!" she called out.

Grant stepped out of the kitchen, following after her until she stopped in the commons room. "What's happening?"

"Chimeras. Lots of them."

From her seat nearby Claire set down her book. "How long do we have?"

"Two days, maybe three. They've mobilized all the PMCs in the region and are calling in outside help." She glanced around. "Where's Billy?"

One of the dorm doors opened and William leaned out, jeans put on in haste. It opened further and a short-haired brunette stepped out, buttoning her blouse as a deep green ooze flowed around her body, covering her from the neck down in a skin-tight layer. "How many is a lot?" she asked, concerned.

"Too many," Kathy replied. "If you've got something up your sleeve, Zoe, now's the time."

Zoe's brow furrowed as she wracked her brain for several seconds, eyes eventually widening in epiphany. "I might! But I need someone else, and I think I know where she is."

"Where's that?"

"Kuneywa."

*****

The average security guard for Kendall & Jhun didn't see much in the way of excitement, gate duty inclusive. Possibly the most interesting thing they had seen in several days was unfolding in front of them, as a young woman in jeans and a shirt had just run up to them demanding to talk to one of the base's pilots, and her dogged insistence on hurriedly trying to talk her way in was making them long for the silence they were experiencing just a few minutes prior.

"Lady," one of them said, "this is private property. If you want to get in, you either need an escort to sign off on you or an appointment."

"No, no no no," Zoe replied, gesturing, "just give me five minutes. I just need to speak to Angela Daihono, and it's -really- important."

"There's a lot of '-really- important' things happening right now," the other guard said.

Just then a white-haired young woman in a hoodie, skirt, and leggings approached from the other side. "I heard my name," she said. She looked between the guards, then at Zoe with an inquisitive look. "Have we met before?"

"I'm Zoe, and I need your help stopping the chimeras."

"I'm already working here-" She gestured behind her. "-and from what people are saying they're going to be deploying everyone, myself included."

"Okay, but I have a plan, and it involves buying you lunch."

The two guards made a move towards Zoe and Angela hurried forward, gesturing for them to stop. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Weirdly, no. I'll explain on the way if you want."

"Where are we going?"

The three K&J employees recoiled in surprise as Zoe produced an absolutely massive wad of bills. "Everywhere."

*****

For a form-fitting pilot suit, it certainly had a lot of stretch to it, though certainly not enough. Angela's trunk-like legs strained the material nearly to its limits, and it absolutely met them when it conformed to a set of hips and an ass that smothered the pilot's seat. The seal in the front and back failed to close, giving it a plunging neckline that stopped just above her tailbone and sex, though in a way her modesty was preserved by the bulging, stuffed belly filling her lap. It was not, however, preserved by the fact that her breasts were exposed and resting atop it.

It was amazing that she could even move like this, more still when Zoe was larger than her when Angela last saw her, and more than that when she kept eating, telling her that she would catch up in a bit. Which she did, remarkably, appearing outside of town near the edge of the Wild Zone in a model of GR Angela had never seen that looked for all the world like a suit of full armor from the Anteinvocatio period and half a world away besides.

As the comm link came in - across a public channel, curiously - and Zoe's face appeared on screen, Angela took a second to boggle at just how -fat- she was, from her cheeks to her additional chins, to how her head seemed to be sinking into the mound of her body. "Okay," Zoe said. Even her voice sounded thicker, somehow. "The easy part is done."

"How are you even able to pilot?" Angela said, awed.

"It's a haptic feedback system. I'm kind of weightless here, and it's smart enough to get what I'm going at when I move."

"Or try to move."

"Hah! Yeah. Um, for this part we need to talk. Loudly."

"About what?"

"About how fat we are."

She blinked. "Really. So, things like 'ALL MY FAT IS SPILLING OUT OF MY CLOTHES?'"

"Yeah, and 'I'M A GIANT WOBBLING BLOB OF A WOMAN.'"

"I CAN FEEL MYSELF JIGGLING EVERY TIME I MOVE!"

"I'M THE SIZE OF A BED, JUST FLABBY ALL OVER!"

"JUST TWO MASSIVELY FAT GIRLS IN GIANT ROBOTS HERE!" Angela paused. "I really need to get laid after this."

"God, I -know-." Zoe perked up as a crack of thunder rolled across the sky, clouds darkening with unnatural speed. "Is that...?" There was a second rumble, closer this time, and her eyes widened. "It worked!"

"What did?" She scanned the area. "What worked?"

The two young women recoiled as a fountain of orange flame erupted some distance away, reaching up high enough to pierce the clouds. A sharp-looking silhouette appeared within, half again as tall as Angela's GR, and as the energy died away it revealed a mechanical figure colored in stark red, black, and gun metal grey. To Angela it looked like a toy; Zoe knew it as the heir to a decades-long legacy, strength given mechanical form, with the power to exceed a god and conquer any devil.

"...it worked," Zoe whispered.

...and standing atop it was _him_. Arms crossed, legs spread in a powerful stance, the coat around his shoulders billowing in the wind. He pushed his glasses up with an index finger, light glinting off the lenses. "Who summoned me?"

Zoe's mecha-analogue raised its arm. "That would be me," she said. "Was I interrupting anything?"

He shrugged. "I was stuck on a pose for the last twenty minutes. Wasn't sure what to do with the arms." Glancing around, he asked, "this isn't Earth, is it?"

"Nope. Eard. Totally different."

He thought for a second. "Is this isekai?"

She let out a sigh of annoyance. "Why do people keep asking me that?"


End file.
